The Degradation

Let him go to hell

"I want to disappear. I want to disappear. I want to disappear. » - Harry

Song: Daughtry - What About Now

***

The road is blurred with tears, and my hands are gripping the steering wheel painfully. I'm shaking so much that I can't drive properly. I can't believe what just happened. His body is in front of my eyes. His cuts. And I'm putting so much pressure on the gas pedal that it's just going to fall off. How can he do this? How can he torture himself like this? He just said he doesn't want to see me again. He couldn't, he had no right. Yeah, I fucked up. Yes, I was the biggest asshole. The landscape outside the window becomes more and more indistinct, and the farther away his house is, the more inevitable my fall is. His words resonate in my head like an annoying record. With one hand, I wipe the tears running down my cheeks. It's one of those useless gestures that everyone makes without really understanding why. After all, after a few seconds, the tears become even more. How can he think I'm better than him? How can he feel pathetic around me? Of the two of us, he's the only one who's sick, but when I'm with him, I feel like there's something wrong with me. He has no right to think he's worse than me. I'm crying so hard I can't breathe. And these marks, these scars, how could I not have noticed? I touched him, stroked him. I had to feel them. It feels like everything is floating around. It's like the world is a low-quality jelly, and some jerk stuffed it in the microwave. I'm lost. I didn't save him, I did a shitty job, and I didn't help a bit. I let him fall. I watched him fall without noticing it. I didn't do anything. I've ruined everything. He doesn't want to see me anymore. 'I never want to see you again.' These words. I can hear them as if he's still standing in front of me. It's like his fists are still shaking with anger. I see his green eyes, expressing all the pain that a person can only feel. How could everything be so degraded? So this is what it's like? Being heartbroken? No. No, I refuse. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't fall in love to suffer like this. I didn't start loving him just so he could rip my heart out. I hit the steering wheel and I can't take all these tears anymore. I wanted to help him so much. He has no right to push me away. Doesn't have the right.

He has no rights...

"FUCK!"

I didn't notice anything. I drove at random. The truck's bright headlights are coming straight at me, and I can't see anything. I close my eyes and hear only the loud and insistent honking of the horn. I spin the steering wheel and barely have time to pull over to the side of the road, almost crashing into a tree by the side of the road. I look in the rearview mirror. The huge headlights are removed. Time seemed to have stopped. My whole body is shaking, and for the first time, I can hear my heartbeat so clearly.

What. This. Was.

Everything happened quickly. Too fast. My hands are firmly on the steering wheel, and cold sweat runs down my back as my body convulses. I'm going to faint. I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door, falling to my knees.

I threw up. There's too much in my head. The headlights, the blades, his tears, my tears, the truck, his words, his scars. Scars. I remember his scars again, and I feel even sicker. I just feel sick inside out. I'm in shock. Of everything. I didn't think heartache could make you sick. It turns out that it can. I feel my stomach clench as I throw up on the side of the road. I wonder when it's gonna stop. And those damn tears that keep flowing. I've been throwing up forever. I can't take it anymore. I grab a bottle of water from the car and slump into the front seat. I don't have the strength anymore, I'm exhausted. I don't know what's real and what's not. I scan the road with a blank stare. When I woke up, everything was perfect. It was the best morning of my life. Obviously, good dreams always end in nightmares. Because that's what's happening right now. A nightmare. I remember everything from the beginning. How he pushed me at the entrance to the auditorium and didn't apologize. How I got the first message. That was 162 days ago. It's almost two in the morning, Monday. 162. This I have to send him, this countdown... Should I do that? Isn't that part of 'I never want to see you again'? I also lost Anonym. I know. I've lost them both, and I'm going to lose myself soon.