I kept wiping at my cheeks. Letting go. Letting go is hard. Especially if you haven't even held on yet.
Like he'll ever love you. I think to myself. And it's better for him that way.
I found a place on the curb of a random street. I sat, but not too far out on the road. I buried my head into my arms, letting my hair fall over. I let myself cry. I do it so often but not in the daylight, and especially not in public, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stop the tears even if I cried, it'd be like trying to boarder up a pounding, ushering waterfall.
Leo was so confused. So confused. He didn't understand. Him, so happy, with friends, making jokes all the time, might understand but not enough to relate. Not to me, a broken, beaten, exhausted, think-skinned boy.
I cry harder into my arms, pulling up into my shoulders and wiping my cheeks with my bones. It's not right. Why can't I have a life? Why can't I love someone without breaking them? Killing them?
I'm just unlucky. I don't believe in luck, but it's easier then trying to figure it out, especially if I don't know if I want the answer. Wanted answers to unwanted questions, or unwanted answers to needed questions.
I forgot about how I enjoy this... Well, not enjoy, just need, desire. I need, I desire, the pain. This pain. It's all that let's me know I'm still alive. All my scoffs, curses, and cuts, pain hidden, but visible, behind all of them.
You're alive. You could have it worse. I tell myself. I probably could have it worse. But I don't, and most of the people that surround me--if not all--have it better.
I'm worthless in this universe without the pain I need but don't want. Close to worthless with it.
I don't need to drag Leo into that... Not for my selfishness. Not for love.
Love is just... I didn't realize I had stopped crying until my watery eyes shut and I began sobbing as hard as I could, I was shaking. Worthless.