This is gospel,
For the fallen ones,
Locked away in permanent slumber.
-This Is Gospel, P!ATD.
I closed the door soft, so no one would wake up. I locked the door tight, to make sure no one could barge in. I steadied my hand firm, I couldn't afford mistakes.
Then I opened the bathroom cabinet.
One,
Two,
Three,
Four.
Come on darling, what's one more?
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Oh wait a mess this would create.
Right on my hips, no one would see. A diamond on each end of my pelvis. I clotted the blood and went back to bed, ignoring the stinging that shot through me whenever I turned.
I killed a butterfly that night.
Three days later, I had killed a grand total of five butterflies in my lifetime over the course of two weeks.
But there were still times when I was happy. I could sincerely smile, I could laugh with the rest of them. And those times I wondered what could make me want to... do what I did.
And all of it just came rushing back. My smile disappeared. My laugh died. It didn't matter if I was happiest that I could be. I'd still remember I had scars, both fresh and new, on my legs and hips. My wrists were the worst.
I was two days clean when I went into work. I was a cashier at Toys R Us. I loved working with kids.
I swiped a few Barbie dolls over the counter and saw long, curly blonde hair just below the counter. Oh that's cute.
The mom was on her phone, turned away from her daughter and me. "No, Mom. Kaylee enters first grade next year and I have to support her. Well screw that!" Irritated, the woman hung up the phone.
There was a small tug on my sleeve and I winced internally before turning.
There was long, curly blonde hair and pine green eyes. "Ma'am," I said, hoisting the child onto the counter. "We don't take refunds on these." I smiled.
"Kaylee!" The lady smiled. "Bad girl!" I handed her her child and slid some clothes over the scanner.
Kaylee ran off to look at some clothes in the display case and I held a pink dress in my hand. "Your daughter is adorable."
The lady sighed. "If only the world saw her like that." She paid and left to grab her daughter.
I watched as Kaylee squealed in excitement before going into the female bathroom with her mother and coming out in the pink dress. Her mother held the Mario kart t shirt and khakis in her hand.
Simple things like an accepting parent made me happy. My grin faded quickly as I watched them walk away and I finished my shift still thinking about them. Kaylee couldn't have been more than six. And I was fourteen years older and still didn't have the courage to do what she did.
I would get the courage. I could still marry Beth. She was attractive, I just couldn't love her romantically.
I would need support. So I started to do some research on my laptop. Tumblr helped. See, here's the thing: I could find people attractive, but I couldn't be very... what's the word... Loving? No, I couldn't be romantic.
I posted something on Yahoo answers and went to bed at ease that night, without pain in my hips as I turned.
The next morning I checked my account and found twenty responses. Five called me a fag, seven said I was against the Bible, (OH I'M FUCKING SORRY SHOULD I SELL WOMEN AND NOT EAT SHRIMP AND WEAR ONLY ONE FABRIC AT A TIME AND NOT PLANT TWO CROPS NEXT TO EACH OTHER TOO YEAH SHUT YOU FACE.) Three said they didn't know and had a link and just as was about to give up, someone said something intelligent. I wasn't asexual. I was aromantic. Then they said how sexuality and romanticism are two different things.
I took a picture and googled "aromantic." Then it was cake.
I would tell them in one week, on Sunday. I could. I would. I had to.
I could almost taste the freedom. (But I really like the taste of chocolate better.)
Happy Easter everyone I am on spring fucking break for the next week and I look hot as shit in my diversity prom outfit.
Kisses,
Satan, (I Didn't Use Protection Now Spiders Exist) Lord of Feels.
