Midnights Like This

Part 4, 32. Voicemail

     After school started I realized people didn't like me, because they knew I was better than them. It was different from 8th grade in the sense that people took "pronouns" and "bullying" more seriously. Not that I bullied anyone, but now girls look like boys and vice versa. So I guess you could say that people are smarter nowadays, because they have to keep track of who is what even though they look like, well, what they were born as, respectively of course... I was in distress, so I called you again Roy, around my birthday because I was in a bad place, you didn't pick up so I left you a voicemail. You never called back so I'm assuming your voicemail was full. The difference that I have noticed is that surprisingly, a high school in Massachusetts of all places does not have any guys that like other guys. Now I thought military school was bad, until I came here...

     I can't feel my fingers, and I can't feel my toes, there's blood on my necklace and all over my clothes. I called you again but your voicemail was full, so I guess I'm just out here and I'm on my own. I guess I'm just running, running away from being comfortable and towards my problems. You. You are my problems Roy, but don't get me wrong, you are a beautiful mistake. Do I make you angry? Should I just leave you alone? Because you keep running from me, I guess It's all that you know. You're so embarrassing, let's just go, and hey I'm still out here, and I'm on my own. I love the way you slither in and out of people's minds and then act like you didn't have any impact at all on my life. I love to hate you and I hate that I still love you. I just hope you didn't listen to that voicemail, and then not respond, because honestly that's worse. So I'm just hoping that your voicemail was full.

     How's that new girl that caught your wandering eye? Does she know she's just the product of your boredom and treachery? And that you are slithering out of her mind sometimes at night when you slither into someone else's behind her back. I wonder what possesses you to do the things you do to the people you do it to, and how you don't acknowledge who and how you ruin them. And oh god, you are such an addicting drug, but I think I'm almost clean, and I really, really hope that you don't read your voicemails on midnights like this.