Afraid

Ch. 17 - Be my person

Not my best ch. but I didn't have a great March. At all and I'm tired and I just really wanted to update before the month was up so here it is. Let me know what you think so far. Thanks!

Violet

So NOT worth it. So not fucking worth it.

After the remnants of my last orgasm washed away, I was left empty again. Laying there next to Adrien, letting him hold me as I held back my stupid, shameful tears, threatening to spill. I stayed until Adrien fell asleep, to make my cowardly escape. And now I'm in my car, driving home through tears, that won't stop spilling.

I don't even know why I'm crying. I knew what was going to happen. I knew what I was doing. And yet, here I am, as predicted, angry and filled with immense disgust for myself. What kind of asshole treats people like this? What kind of asshole knowingly uses and destroys people like this? What does this say about me?

I'm a bitch. An absolute, tortured bitch.

Good, you deserve to suffer.

I roughly wipe my tears away. But it's no use, they just keep falling. Tears and snot dripping down my face to the same tempo as the cascading rain that splats hard against my windshield.

I keep picturing it. Adrien's look of adoration before he whispered 'I love you' into my ear as he entered me once more. The suffocating shame that slowly descended after that. The flicker of hurt in his eyes when I didn't say anything back, yet again. The slow acceptance that he'll probably never hear me say those words back to him. The knowing look he gave me as I straddled him in an attempt to distract him from the rejection.

I hate it and I hate myself. I don't want to lose him but I also can't imagine giving him what he wants. And even if I could, I know I shouldn't. I'm no good for him. I'm no good for anyone. It's better this way—giving him what I can for as long as I can. But all at a safe distance. All under my control. Because god forbid I allow anyone else have any power over me.

How transparent. Predictable. I absolutely loathe it.

He's one of my closest friends. I need him—his comfort, his company, his unwavering loyalty. I can't lose that. Not yet. Not like this. No matter how selfish that makes me.

So how do I go explaining that? How do I begin to explain to him that I do in fact want him but not in the same way he seems to crave me? How do I convince him to stay? To keep forgiving my endless list of grievances? To keep pushing away his pain? To keep choosing me?

All while I come and go, never committing. Never choosing him.

I-I might even love him. But definitely not in the same way he loves me. If I even thought I was truly capable of it. Maybe I could've. If I was normal. If I was happy.

Alive.

Capable of feeling anything other than this constant heaviness weighing me down. My feet dragging at every step. My fingernails breaking and bleeding as I try to climb my way up my own personal well. Falling and treading water and climbing and trying and yet still failing. Always failing. Drowning over and over again. Gasping for air, both relieved and disappointed that I'm still breathing.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe if I wasn't such an emotional masochist. Maybe if I wasn't me, this all would've played out differently.