heartbreak in many forms

Like, 9am

School wasn't real.

It existed, yes, but it wasn't anything necessary for me. It was just people who didn't like me interacting with me for 5 hours, sometimes longer, and pretending they remembered my name, birthday, triggers. They would punch my back for my half arsed reaction of pain. Then teachers would pretend to give a damn about the well being and mental mindset of life the students have whilst simultaneously destroying anything good that was left within.

But school was useful for social skills. It was useful to ensure if I grew up to get a job and life, I'd fir the mould of the society I was placed in without wanting to be. To ensure that all the students would grow up with the falseness that they are safe, welcomes, wanted. Teaching us to normalise certain acts of discrimination but to voice out against other types.

It was all just a bit too much.

Which was why, thankfully, school being closed one day of the week allowed my body to rest more after the nights events. It wasn't that everyday so just one day a term was everything to me. But he had school. We didn't go to the same ones after all, and he had his day off  on Monday whereas mine was on a Thursday. Though, I wasn't too sure if I was sad about that.

I wanted to talk to him but he recently pulls away. I understand why he does sometimes but other times I don't. Perhaps I just allowed everything to get to my head too much and that's all it was. Not that he truly was pulling from me, but that I was too sensitive in my own mental state. I mean, sometimes I could see that I was being too sensitive, too irrational and you could even argue I was being self centred. Call me selfish, but nobody ever looked out for me so naturally, if I'm upset, I will make it about myself.

I say that. But I never actually do unless I'm 100% sure the other person isn't also on the verge of breaking.

Help everyone.

Help everyone.

Help everyone.

I don't need to help everyone. I can't help everyone. But something about my lack of being able to word comforts to people, or understand them, it made me feel like shit every time. Especially when he said it. He said it maliciously. I think. It was over text, but there definitely was an intent there. Maybe he was hoping, if he said it, I'd change up and provide comfort through words but that struggle for me is embedded far too deep. No matter how I claw at it, how I try to learn it- I can never understand it.

And when he said I could never provide him with what he needed and that's why he saw no point talking to me about it. Well, I felt pretty useless.

"All you say is sorry snd then I say it's fine." That's true. It was true, I couldn't deny it. I would do nothing to help because how do you help someone who doesn't want advice, doesn't want to think about it but doesn't want to ignore it. What do I say without seeming insensitive?

Maybe that was the problem. I worried so much about seeming insensitive towards the situation that it became about me instead of him. Maybe that's why he wanted to snap me out of that. By telling me I was useless to help him in the nicest way he could, in hopes I'd fix up and become helpful.

He thinks he is the only one who struggles with feeling worthwhile. And I'll pretend I am secure with my place here until sweet release of death can break that exterior of lies.

I don't know who I am, but for him, I know I'm the one he should love. He should be with me and I should be with him. And for as long as he would let me, I would be his.

My eyes turned to the stupid alarm clock, it was 8:57.  Like, 9am. But it would be ok, he was at school. I wouldn't be able to text him until he returned.

If he even wanted to talk with me.

He probably didn't want to.