Push my head down. Force me under the water. Push me off of the fucking edge. Let me sink further.. further.. further..
I can't stop myself. I can't stop cutting. I fear my ripped jeans to reveal my sickening results of my suffering and the worse.. for my girlfriend to find out.
"You're sick in the head, you disgusting fuck. Why would you cut yourself?"
"It isn't cool, you know. Talk to someone."
I fucking do! I have a therapist, thank you.
"What's wrong with you, you stupid fuck? Others have it worse, be thankful!"
I am. I am thankful. I got a girlfriend on the second day of school! She still makes my heart flutter, but how can I explain that its difficult to show emotion like that? Love, to me, is painful. It's not supposed to be, I know. I know Cadence wouldn't hurt me, I trust her. I really trust and love her..
I'm holding my coat over me as I walk down the hallway. I only went to the bathroom but my anxiety.. parents staring at me. Do I look like a disappointment too?
Bell.. bell! Where's Cadence? It's 3:22.. where.. I miss her. Where is she? Where has she gone..?
I think I see her! I'm outside now.. is she looking at me too? Now she's looking to her phone. I looked up- Fuck! She is looking!
She always makes me smile. I can't resist her. I don't want to resist her. I want to give in, let myself become intoxicated from this love I feel. She.. she kissed me! It was my cheek, but I don't even care. I can still feel it. 3:30, I'm on the bus, my heart is still racing. How do I ever contain myself around her? I've never been in love like this. This started so unexpectedly.
I didn't even have feelings yet when me and Cadence started to date. Hell, I hadn't even met her yet when we started. But being told I was cute and that my outfit suited me that day? Saying no would've been a huge mistake. It could've ruined my whole year. But the weirdest thing.. I dreamed about it the day before school even started. This isn't a stupid little place that isn't even half the size of where I live now, no. It's the city, and a school of just a bit over three hundred. But I get little visions in my head sometimes of scenes. Like.. okay, I'll say it. So it was one of these little visions, not a dream. But it's easier to say a dream, I guess. So, it was just a girl and her group of friends. But it was just voices.
"Oh, yeah. My boyfriend is trans, but it doesn't make him any less of a handsome man."
Then some giggling.
"My handsome man."
And that was it. How strange? But it's weird how I had that pop into my head, then a girlfriend on the second day? I mean, I was going to hit on girls after my hair grew out a bit more. Wait, fuck! She really thought I was cute even with that short haircut? Short blonde and brown, like fucking Miley Cyrus!? Oh, jesus.
What's weird is, I think my face is okay sometimes. But like, even during those times, I can't keep myself from forming the words that "I'm ugly" even if I don't think I'm ugly at that time? I mean, it doesn't make much difference. I still think I'm ugly 95% of the time. I really am. There's others who are so much more attractive and more handsome than me.
I'm so flawed.. I want to be like other boys. I want to have a dick. I want no curves. I want a flat chest. I want that testosterone to run through my body. Fuck, I want the morning boners. I don't want boobs! I don't want to sound like a girl! I don't want any of these female parts! I want to be a real boy, to actually pass as a male. Sound like one, to be one.
Aside from that, 5:39 PM.. I still see the scissors around. The same pair. They're so sharp.. So easy to slide across my skin and leave the growing trail of blood behind. I'm addicted to it. Like how alcoholics drink, I'm a cutter. I cut. It sounds weird, but I like the pain. Not in a sexual way but.. it relieves me somehow. Feeling something other than a numb sadness, but something physical. It's only eleven marks.. it's better than I used to do. Tens upon tens all down my arms and thighs, both sides. My thighs and right arm are the only really scarred places, though. I could never cut deep enough to scar on my left wrist, I was too scared. I don't exactly want to die. I've been too close to that. No.. I couldn't go through that.
The pills. The needles. The sharp sting. The hospital. The questions. Missing my home. Missing my cat. Risking my life. Almost losing my life. But then.. I didn't even get a break after I was released. No. Not even a month later, I get into a car accident. Both me and my grandma survived, but.. I have such a fear of vehicles. Trucks specifically. I just.. can't. I distract myself in vehicles if all possible. Otherwise, the panic just sucks me in. It takes over and leaves me either gasping for air, or not even being able to take in half of a breath. No. I need my earbuds in. Then I'm decently okay.
Cadence is texting me, 5:46 PM. I would answer, but I'm also in the bathroom brushing my teeth and writing this. It's simple to just tap a few letters and send something, so why don't I? How stupid. I'm supposed to be the one who makes her feel special, who answers her calls and texts, who shows her she's loved, who makes her feel beautiful.. Do I- no. I shouldn't ask that. I know I make her happy, but.. do I really do any of those for her?
"Pay more attention to her. Multitask you bastard!"
I get it! I fucking get it! I'm sorry.. 5:48, I guess I'll type a reply. 5:49, it's sent.
"Heyyy" or whatever it was. I just.. she asked me if I read her venting. I did.. I truly did. But by the words I've read, she was scared for me to read it. Fuck, she's scared that she already has the three views.
"I'm scared for if you do read it tho"
"I'm not going to."
Huge fucking lie. I've read them.. I know you're so sad, my love..
11:34 PM, Cadence said good night and I haven't said anything back. I feel like.. I feel like I should just continue to pretend to be asleep. I'm really just on amino, roleplaying or chatting. Or sometimes browsing YouTube. Simple. I'm an insomniac. I can't sleep no matter what I do, so I just go on my phone. What else could I do? Sit there in the darkness, my mind speaking to me even more? I can't turn my light on. If grandma wakes up, game over. So drawing and reading is out. I can't find my remote either. What's left? Phone.
11:38 PM, my thoughts are collecting me in their arms.
Cut again.
You know you want to.
But the truth is, I do want to. But that isn't the point. Secondly, I can't. I can't grab the scissors right now. What if she wakes up? I'll just cry. I'll let myself cry until my chest hurts too much and I just have nothing left to cry. It's all I can do right now..
