Then He Said -‘Hold Onto Me’
These past few days I’ve been feeling like a walking black hole. I’m just sucking everything up and gradually waiting for my own end. I have no idea what was happening and I couldn’t bare it anymore. It’s like I was bitten by a direwolf with a raging rabies which is already streaming along with my blood.
The dark cloud has been following me for a month now, wanting what I know that I do not have. If only I could tell these people what kind of abusive cloud this is, they would understand. Hopefully. This dark cloud is eating me up again, making me think of the things that I shouldn’t and have given up already. Old habits die hard. I have hit rock bottom yet again. I miss the days where breathing doesn’t hurt and smiling wasn’t so much as a responsibility.
Since this cloud is my only ‘friend’, I tried to succumb to him. I grabbed the tool and yanked it where it belongs. I’ve never felt so alive. Seeing the liquid made me nauseous and alive at the same time. Funny thing? I still felt nothing, other than the cold breath of the dark cloud. I drew another line with the tool, maybe this time I would feel it? Maybe this time, I would be awake and realize that I am nothing but a spacetaker. I rather see myself gone than others.
‘The problem is who you are. Do the world a favour.’ –maybe I will. The second line was deeper, the liquid is now everywhere, my head is lighter than usual. Better. Or so they say. I wonder how long will this take. I looked at my reflection and didn’t see a thing worth living for. ‘I am trying.’, when will they stop asking too much from me? ‘I just can’t do it anymore’, when will they realize that some things are better off broken? When will they back out and stop fucking with me? ‘All I do is hurt people’, but what do they really want from me? They want to be involved and when they already are, they will leave. Perfect.’To my family, you guys brought the best out of me. Always. You are the reason why I held on for so long’, maybe too long. This isn’t cutting it, I braced myself for the third line. ‘To my lover, I am so sorry.’, the pain is ticking in. I looked at the sink and there was red everywhere. Red for all the wrong things I have done and would’ve done. I am a mess, maybe that’s why it’s time to say good bye. I am never good at good byes but this is probably the best thing that I have ever done. I never felt so alive. Seeing these made me realize that I am alive. That I am supposed to feel. For a minute, I examined the lines. I saw a faded trace of a semicolon that I usually draw on my wrist. Just above the lines. ‘Maybe it’s time to turn the semicolon into a period.’
I was getting ready for a fourth line when he appeared. His face looked so lively, like I remember it. Like how I want to remember it. He’s not in an urn, he’s alive. He’s with me right now. He looked disappointed. ‘You promised to stop this.’, what can I do? I just had to. I’m sorry. ‘You said you would stop.’, but this is the only thing that I can do to make myself feel alive. ‘You tried this before, you’ve hurt me.’, that’s the point, can’t you see? If I push through, the pain would be a onetime deal, but if I don’t, I would have to suck it up and live a life hurting people. ‘You’re overthinking this, you’re not well. You need to rest. It’s been three days since you had sleep’, I am pretty sure that this is what they want. I no longer have a reason to stay here. I do not have anything or anyone anymore and I rather continue. I started to draw in the fourth line, deeper than the rest. Oh the pain is perfect. ‘Hold onto me.’, I looked at myself again. I had a plan. I have a plan. I looked at my slitted canvas, four is for the luck. Washing it was better, the sting is stronger and slapped me with reality. I grabbed myself a towel and wrapped it on my arm.
I will do this for you. I will hold on. I will see what I can do.
You will be sorry when I’m gone.
sunglasses emoji only wears his shades to hide the tears
For The First Guy I Believe That I Truly Loved
I’ve been staring at this blank page for quite some time now. Not knowing what to write, where to start, how to do it and what to say. This stupid cursor have been blinking for weeks now -a constant reminder of how long since we have deserted our so called ‘love’. Every blink hurts like hell. Like there’s a mini black hole in the middle of my body, sucking everything that I have and turning them into dust and nothing more.
I would email you but I wouldn’t want to ruin your day. I would call you but I don’t want you to hear my cry. I would text you but I don’t want to bother you, since I know how much you hated using your cellular phone. I would hand write this and send it through air mail but I know you wouldn’t let me. Also because I don’t know where your new flat is and all I have is your home address, and God knows you hate going home as much as I hate mayonnaise. I would send you this in any form but I know it’ll make you feel things that you hate, once liked, and I cannot forgive myself anymore. If it does you any good, no one can hate myself as much as I do.
How are you? A stupid question you might say and I will agree because you’re a smart man. A man who have different ways to touch my heart and make me feel all those stupid feelings that are found and described on those silly love movies and sappy novels. However, I do hope you’re better. I hope you didn’t drink more than you could but I bet you did - and since you’re Polish,according to you, you don’t get drunk. Except that one time when you got alcohol poisoning and was hospitalized, passed out at an alley and even got robbed. You get robbed more than I do and you call my country barbaric. You had to swotch 4 phones on the span of our relationship. What a clutz. What a stupid man.
I want you to know that while I am writing this abomonation of bullshit, I am looking at your photo. The one you took when you were at Iran? You were at this monument thingy. You were wearing your maroon plaid longsleeves, that I know you wished blue since you love blue so much. You have this annoying pout on, which I am 100% sure mocking my ability to do fish lips because I know that you can’t and you’re jealous of me. I have put this picture as my desktop background, I hope you don’t mind.
Happy 23rd birthday. I hope Patryck didn’t hire you strippers. It’s not that it’s still my business or what. I just don’t want you to feel awful on your day. You’re 23 now. Well, tomorrow, at least. You will be graduating on October then you will be moving to Iran to get a job while attending graduate school for International Security and or Multiculturism. however,I hope you wouldn’t forget to make your actual dream a reality. To own and manage a Pierogi restaurant. I would write the name of it here but I would be publishing this over the internet and I don’t want anyone else to use it but you. It will be easy for you, I’m sure. You’re a very dedicated man. Quite lazy, yes, but all you need is a little push. You’ll make it. I am sure. Plus, you love pierogi more than anything and anyone else in this galaxy. You even love pierogi more than me and I am comfortable with that. Minus the idea of you getting aroused with food. Kidding.
Thank you. For everything. For introducing me to awesome TV shows. For being the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. And I don’t say this for flattery. I don’t even want to compliment you. But when people ask me to describe you, it all comes out as a compliment. They even label it sweet and or cute which makes me vomit and I’m sure you too. Can you imagine that? People calling us cute? We’re not cute. We’re hardcore. We’re badass. We’re metal as fxck. Right? Thank you for making me feel things that I never thought I could eer feel. Thank you for being you.
I miss you. Everything about you. Your stupid laugh, where you sound like a snorting pig. A pig having sex while being slaughtered, your words. I miss your horrible racist jokes.How you would Google up racist jokes and read them to me for like 2 hours. I miss how you laugh at your own jokes, how you talk about food like it’s the best thing ever, how perverted you are, how everything is about sex when it comes to you, how childlike you are, how playful you are, how you talk about my brother like he’s yours, like the way you secretly hate what you chose. I just miss you. You talking to me.. but it doesn’t mean we should.
I’m sorry. Mor ethan I could say. More than what my feeble vocabulary can offer. I truly am.
Always take care.
This happened to me last Monday on a bus. She even took my earbud off and asked me “Do you worship evil?!” -then she was like “Is this our youth?! What happened to our youth?!”. I was so tempted to say “All Hail Satan”.
I honestly think that the boys in All Time Low will never change. Its like they’ll be 80 still making dick jokes. Haha