It kinda suffocates you, the hopelessness, the realization nothings right but you're stuck where you are, you can't get out and the feeling remains with you. So there's only one permanent option left, but you can't do that for whatever reasons you have. Or you can, because there are no reasons, or you don't care, and you do.
It's suffocating, that feeling. Clawing around at your insides, at your lungs. The first moment it happens, it takes the breath from your lungs, cuts them open. But you can breath, and you are there, and so is the feeling, but you can't get rid of it.
You scream, you cry, because it's all you can do. Only sleep can take it away, sleep and whatever self destructive habit you decide to pick up. But those never last forever, do they? Except that one option. Cutting it short, saying adios, ripping out the ending of God's book about you and writing your own, an abrupt one.
Sometimes it's here for a reason - the feeling. Sometimes it's just here.
I'll be standing with my friends, laughing, perfectly fine. But then one small moment, a switch, a thought, maybe nothing at all, makes my mind go to hell. Maybe it was caused by my happiness - I'll laugh, I'll be fine and okay and happy, and I'll recognize it, but I won't like it. It's unnatural, not right, and immediately it's gone.
I can't stay happy forever. Maybe I can't stay happy at all.
"Hey babe, what do you want for dinner?" At this point, the apartment was Kellin's permanent home. We lived together, we loved each other.
"Uh, whatever you make is fine." I kissed his cheek and went back to staring at the TV playing Umbrella Academy.
"How are you?" He asked softly, crawling into bed beside me and running his fingers through my hair. I laid my head back and enjoyed the feeling.
"Great, now that you're here." By that I meant, on the verge of breaking down, but keeping it together and inside because you're here. But I guess that was still better. If I was alone, I'd break down, and I really did not want to break down.
"Mm," Kellin hummed and kissed my jaw. "You're sure?" He rested his head on my shoulder and looked up at me skeptically.
"Yes, babe, I'm sure," I told him. "Go make dinner, or be the dumbass you are, I don't know," I shooed him.
His phone dinged, and he picked it up to read a text. I decided not to be a nosy douche and didn't read over his shoulder, but still asked, "What is it?"
"Gabe," Kellin sighed. "He's drunk - again. The guys are too and need a ride, is it okay if I go pick them up? I can pick up dinner on the way home."
"Of course, go be the knight in shining armor," I joked.
"Vic!" He whined with a giggle. "What do you want, though?"
"Uh, McDonalds," I shrugged. "Quickest and tastiest."
Kellin scrunched his nose. "I will never understand you people and your fast food. But if that's what you want, okay." He stood and grabbed his things, planting a kiss on my lips before he left. "Bye!" He called.
I waved goodbye as he left. I was alone, what I was trying to prevent. I breathed out, but soon regretted it at the simple action of making noise made me nearly break into tears. I bit my lip with a small whimper to hold back tears.
Come on, nothing's wrong. You shouldn't be crying, I told myself.
I just wanted to be emotional, to cry, to have a reason to cry. Things that normally wouldn't bug me in the slightest, made me a ball under my blankets trying to hold back tears.
Kellin had left me so preoccupied, gave me a reason not to be the way I was, that I rarely had times like these. I'd look at my arm and see only the smallest of scars from a month ago, or more. Ones barely seeable. It was different, it was trippy, it didn't feel right.
At first, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed seeing the lack of marks. Dark, red, fresh, self inflicted lines. They were fading, pink, white, lines, turned into dents, into nothing. But now I missed it. I missed the sting, my arm covered in marks I counted, spoke to, encouraged to bleed more as if they were my kid and I was boosting their confidence. They supplied me pain and I supplied them existence.
What was the point of trying for Kellin? I loved him, I think- He loved me, he said it every day. But I rarely said it back. I was scared I'd lose him like Harley, like Lila said he'd do - he'd leave me like everybody else.
I loved him, I didn't want to lose him. But did I care if he lost me? I'd never leave him, I'd never cheat, I'd always be the best boyfriend I can, but if it came down to it, would I let myself go? Leave Kellin, die by my own hands, without the full care of what happened to Kellin?
If it did come down it, if something drastic happened and I was in an irrational state, I would. I wouldn't think, I wouldn't care. My mind would be set on the unbearable pain, rather than the pain I was about to inflict on people I cared about by going through with whatever it was - like right now.
Weeks ago, I went to the store alone.
I didn't mean to buy the pencil sharpeners, but a pack of them sat there. I got them, the temptations too hard to resist. I kept them, hid them, didn't touch them. But now I had them, along with a screwdriver.
Lefty loosy, righty tighty. They taught us that while we took apart computers in school- I always hated it, and by now it just sounded sexual. Tighty. But it reminded me which way to turn with the screwdriver.
The blade fell into my hand. Anxious, I hid the pack back in its original spot and threw the empty sharpener away, hidden under paper towels. Then, with my prized possession ready for use, I held out my arm. I guess I was about to lose the t shirt privileges.
One.
I was scared. It had been months, I forgot how it felt, lost the lack of fear I held doing it before. But as the blood slowly came out, I felt the thrill and remembered just how much I sickly enjoyed this.
Two.
It was quicker, deeper. I was still nervous, still not up for much, but the blood came out quicker, the sting with it.
Three.
Then I couldn't stop.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
That was my lucky number, and where I forced myself to stop. I came to my senses, seeing the mess that my left arm held, and cried.
"Fuck, Kellin, he's gonna be so disappointed," I whispered.
But not if he doesn't find out.
Quickly, I threw on a hoodie, not bothering to wash the bleeding cuts. I never did before, anyways. Risk of infection wasn't a concern of mine. If it got out of hand and messy, I'd pour water over it.
Hiding the metal in my drawer that I afterwards locked, I sat anxiously awaiting Kellin's arrival.
It didn't take long. And by then my cuts where in full motion, supplying me with a dull sting I craved so badly.
"Let's feast!" Kellin cheered, then paused. "You changed your shirt."
"Oh- Yeah, I did, is that a problem?" I asked, fear rising in my chest.
"No, not at all. You just looked cute in your black tee, I'm also proud of you for being clean for three months," Kellin said with the biggest grin.
"Three months?" I asked, gulping. I threw away that much effort.
"Yeah! Today's the exact date that marks three months. I'm so proud, babe." Kellin pulled me into a tight hug, rubbing the fresh cuts.
Three months.
~_~_~_~
All these kids have got affluenza
Oucchies, stomach no likey
Oki doki, all of you staying up past your nine o' clock bed times, sleep you sleep deprived fuckers
<3!
~ISweepy