𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢

𝟷𝟻. 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎

I hate long A/N but it's needed.

dark content ahead: alcoholism, parental abuse, talk of past self-harm, talk of self-harm action, self-harm relapse, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, encouragement of suicide, mental abuse, verbal abuse, vomit, violence, blood, anxiety, depression, gaslighting, toxic relationships, detailed domestic violence talk, and action.

Honestly, everything. I'm sorry. Conversations in this chapter can be very triggering, none of which are meant to be glorified!! Please proceed with caution.

If these things are triggering to you, especially domestic violence and talk of suicide, please skip past Y/N's unspoken truths, for they are dark. I have labeled in this chapter when her flashbacks take place. But please also take note her past events are crucial to her character and other scenes within this chapter.

Again, scenes within this chapter are personal things I've experienced in my life. Y/N's unspoken truths are mine which is why it took me so long to write/publish.

Be kind with your words, not just for the courtesy of me but to others who are reading that might have been through similar things.

Ignore typos. I'm tired. <3

___

You have an innumerable amount of regrets in your life, those of which seem to be perpetual; in a desolate way, they are what you are made up of.

Inside of you, there is blood, there are bones, but most of all, what rests beneath your skin are endless mounds of calamities driven by shame you cannot shake.

Choices you've made, things you did, and things you didn't do are all penitence that you pull around the extra weight of as you go through each day. Even still, none of that heaviness compares to the bitterness you hold toward yourself for falling in love with Porco Galliard and not running when you should have.

This is your story.

Your 'my heart sits so heavy it cracks my chest, but I remain silent anyways' story.

It all started two years ago, when you first met Porco, and with all that is left of your heart that pumps out more bleakness than it does blood, you wish you never chose to step foot out of your house that day.

If you had never met him, if your paths never curved at just the right angle, causing them to collide explosively into the other if he never laid eyes on you and your wandering gaze never found his in return, what would your life look like? What kind of person would you be, emotionally and mentally?

What would your heart, soul, and mind be without the pain? Without the trauma? Without the virulent strain of poisonous love that you wish more than anything was never injected into your veins because of how much it tore you clean apart?

Those tedious unmanageable wonderments flash across your mind like some bright obnoxious billboard you wish would just lose its power but even still, no matter how hard or long you have spent searching, both within yourself and the rest of the world, you have never been able to find a single answer that has benefited you in any way.

It's all null, achingly so.

Despite your repeated failures to find solutions to your potential self, you know enough to be able to acknowledge that if you never fell for Porco, your life and the person you are today would be different.

Whether you like to admit it yourself or not, the marks that Porco left on you are ones that, even with passing time, might not ever fully heal. That's how deep the wounds were and how mortifying it was to endure them, especially for as long as you did.