ℂ𝕣𝕦𝕖𝕝𝕥𝕪 | 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕠 𝕋𝕠𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕚

sixty five

I'm an idiot, a complete and total idiot. I should have never written that letter. Hell, maybe I should have taken those pills. My tears streak my cheeks as I watch the boy I love fade into the night.

I sink to my knees and have a good cry. The pathway is nice and cold on my bare legs, my skin feeling too hot to bare. After a while, my tears dried up and I gathered the strength to walk back inside.

I shut the door behind me and look to the stairs to see my mother crying. She read the fucking letter. I catch her eyes and she sobs harder. I then expect her to scream at me like he did.

She doesn't. She walks over and wraps me in a tight hug, whispering that it'll be okay in my ear as I cry. She rubbed my back and held me close to her, not an ounce of anger on her.

After I stopped crying, she led me to the kitchen and I sat in silence as she made us hot cocoa. We moved to the couch and I sipped my cocoa, my cheeks feeling tight as they were stained with tears.

"Ikari, I need you to be open with me about how you feel. I need your full honesty, no matter how hard it is." She deserved to know, she's my rock, my mother.

I stared at the marshmallow in the whip cream, my mind twisting as if I was trying to understand myself. "I'm in pain, mom. My past constantly haunts me and my hands are so bloodied– I don't think I can ever forgive myself."

I pause for a second as I stare at the couch, "People keep telling me it's not my fault but it is. It was my fault. I just-" I sniffle a little and she places her hand on my knee to ground me.

"I look so much like him, mom." My brows pinch as I look at the hands gripping my cup. "The scars remind me of them. I can't sleep at night. Hell, I don't think I've slept a full night since I came back from solitary." I pause for a second.

"I can't even look in the fucking mirror anymore. I can't do my fucking makeup without having a panic attack nor can I focus in class."

I look up at her, my lip wobbling, "It's all so hard, mom. I don't want to live like this." She places her cup down next to mine and wraps me in the kind of hug that you need when you're crying.

"I'm so sorry you're going through this, hun. I love you so much, you know that, right?" I nodded into her shoulder and after a second she let go of me.

She regarded me for a second, "I'm going to make an appointment with a therapist, is that alright?" I don't respond straight away, the prospect of speaking with a random person scary.

"I know you might not want to talk about it but I fear it's the only way you can move forward. Keeping all these emotions to yourself has detrimental results." She was referring to the letter.

The more I thought about it, the more it didn't seem like a bad idea. It can't hurt to try, anything is better than what I'm feeling right now. I nodded in response, muttering an 'okay'.

She smiled but I didn't, my thoughts still on my soulmate. Her smile fell and she softly gripped my hand, "What's on your mind, hun?" What was on my mind? How much of an asshole I am.

I undermined his trauma because I claimed mine was worse. He was right, abuse is abuse. It doesn't matter who was abused more, what matters is we get past it. Together.

I should have agreed with him and not been such an asshole. I was angry with myself for writing that letter, angry I'd even thought of killing myself. And I then pushed him away when I needed him the most.

And then...he said we were over.

"I fucked up bad, mom." I said putting my head in her lap. She stroked my hair, a frown gracing her lips. "It'll all work out. You're made for eachother, he just needs time to process things."