Book of Ruel

It'll Be Okay

"Why don't you ever wanna talk about it? Can't you see that I'm trying my hardest here, I'm trying to get through to you, but you always fucking find a way around it. Please just let me help.. please" he quietly lets out, the crack in his voice causing a sob to rack my body. Knowing I'm hurting those around me, when that's the one thing I'm trying to avoid, is tearing me apart. I don't want the people I love to be hurt, I'm not worthy enough for them to care that much anyways. I never wanted to hurt the people around me and I never wanted to disappoint them. I never wanted to end up like this.

I sit there silently, my phone laying on the ground next to me on speaker, listening to the sound of Ruels shaky breathing. I hear him take a deep breath, causing my quiet sobs to pause as I listen, knowing he's about to say something. "I'm coming over. I can't let this just hang over my head anymore." He states, ending the call before I can even object to his plans. I sit there against my wall, numbly staring straight ahead, unable to even find the motivation to get up and try to tidy my room up. I mean fuck, I don't even have the motivation or energy to get up and brush my hair. It's not like there's even a point in trying to look better and clean my room, he already knows the truth, he already knows it'd just be a facade to hide the actual state I'm in.

I get the energy to numbly shuffle across my room to change my clothes, I've been in them for about 4 days now, and the least I can do is make sure I'm in something clean. I slowly undress, not even realizing what I'm doing, my body just going on autopilot. I grab one of Ruels hoodies off a hanger, pulling it over my head, before shakily putting on a pair of shorts. My legs slightly wobble as I make my way to my bed to sit down, feeling weak from my lack of food lately. I've lightly snacked on a few things my mom has brought me over the past couple of days, but just couldn't bring myself to fully eat anything. It wasn't even that I didn't want to eat, it's just that I couldn't bring myself to even move in order to do so. I haven't showered. I've barely even brushed my teeth. I haven't brushed my hair. I haven't done anything. I don't want to do anything. I can't do anything.

I don't even realize the time that has gone by until I hear footsteps leading up to my bedroom door, snapping my out of the thoughtless trance I was in. I'm sitting against my headboard, knees pulled into my chest, as my door is slowly pushed open. Ruel enters the room, his eyes wandering over everything, before they rest on me. He stands with his back against my now closed door, watching me with a observant gaze as he tries to read the situation. I silently stare back, not having the confidence to make the first move, especially when I've never been confident when it comes to talking about my mental health. Especially when it comes to talking about it with people close to me, it's too intimate and leaves me vulnerable.

He slowly walks to the bed, slipping his shoes off, before climbing up and sitting next to me. We both stare at the wall straight ahead of us, shoulders pressed against each other. Surprisingly it's not an awkward silence, but rather one filled with understanding, since he seems to know that this situation is a lot harder for me than I'll ever admit. We sit in silence for who knows how long, our shoulders rising and falling together with our quiet breaths, my music softly playing in the background. As we sit there together, I feel my throat start to tighten up, the anxiety for what's to come next finally reaching surface. I continue to look at the wall, feeling my bottom lip quiver, as tears start to fall down my face in a never ending river. A choked sob brutally makes its way out of my throat, disrupting the silence we had been sitting in, and shifting the air around us. Ruel continues to stare at the wall, but softly reaches his hand out to intertwine it with mine, putting as much reassurance into it as he can.

"Sweetheart, you need to let me in. I can't help you if you don't let me... what's going on?" He whispers to me, pulling me into his chest. The tears continue to steadily stream down my face, my back pressed against his chest, and my hands clutching his arms that are wrapped around my chest. He holds me tight against him, his own eyes watering a little as he feels the sobs rip through my body, knowing there's nothing he can really do to make this all go away. I feel my anxiety and anguish rise at his question, because I have no real answer for him. I don't know why this is happening, I don't know why I feel this way, and I don't know how he can help me. All I know is that it hurts. It hurts so fucking much.