The Closer I Get to You

20

Beyoncé

Tears irritate my eyes as they fall down my face. I try my best to conceal my sobs in my pillow pet. (It's a bee by the way).

Nicki's rejection hurt me more than I thought.

At first I was shocked, then I was nonchalant, and just now it's hit me and I'm very distraught and broken down. I was the reckless one. I shouldn't have done that. Much less with a Christian girl.

I've managed to pick myself up every so often for a meal and to check on my Sister but nothing more.

No amount of writing my feelings down, screaming into a pillow, crying, or being angry soothes me.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but the drugs always worked wonders. I'd forget for a few weeks at a time at best.

I push that thought away for the third time today. I'm in shock everytime it comes back into my head. I thought I was past this. I'm nearing the three months sober mark.

I close my eyes and sigh. Within that split second everything replays.

The flinch back, the yelling, her running away, me running into the stall furthest from the door to cry out of panic. It just wasn't a good day.

I just wish I could've held back and just hugged her until I got her calm enough to just sit and wait for our other friends to finish the movie without us and see from there.

You see? I never think? My addiction shorted out everything else in my brain.

I finally pick my phone up after a week and a half and see nearly 500 messages from a separate groupchat with just Robyn, Kelly and I in it. Thankfully this interrupted my thoughts.

The last few messages read,

Robyn:
I know everything now. It's just up for the two of your to be adults and talk it out.
*you
Beyoncé at least give us some sign of life

Kelly:
We will invite ourselves over if you do not respond by Friday
PERIOD

Robyn:
^^^^^

I sigh as I see the messages were sent Sunday night. Currently, it's Wednsday.

I move to type but I'm not even sure what to say. What can you even say in this type of situation?

I'm staring to feed into the little thought in my mind that is begging me to run towards any pill bottle. Reality is much harder than I thought. Drama was a lot more simpler in highschool.

I get up and go towards the cabinet in the kitchen.

I'm amped up and excited for a minute until Solange clears her throat with an entire handheld saw in her grasp.

"I need help."

Maybe divine intervention is a thing...

________

I cough right before I get out the car.

I never ended up taking anything. I'm proud of myself for that but my depression is still present and very loud. I don't know how to deal with it.