I DON'T CARE !!chris sturniolo

26

Many people claim that a person who hasn't felt loved throughout their childhood, doesn't know how to love. But who's to say there's a right way to love?
The capacity to love is not a privilege bestowed solely upon those who were cradled in the arms of affection- rather, it is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, adapting, evolving, and finding expression in the vast expanse of the human heart. In the grand symphony of existence, love emerges as a melody that resonates beyond time and circumstance. It sings in the poetry of our lives, crafting verses of resilience, compassion, and unwavering devotion.

Like a resilient seed seeking sunlight through the cracks of concrete, love flourishes where it's planted and transcends the barriers set by my mother. It is not confined to the manuscripts of childhood tales or the chapters of societal expectations but thrives in the whispers of kindness, the tender embrace of understanding, and the grace of acceptance. In the tapestry of human existence, love is the thread that weaves itself through the very fabric of our souls. A melody played by the heartstrings knows no bounds.

Within my being resides a symphony, a paradoxical dance between longing for love and the relentless whispers of fear. It's an intricate waltz of yearning for intimacy, where my heart seeks solace in the warmth of connection, yet trembles in the shadows of insecurity.

In the quest for love, one traverses an emotional labyrinth, a kaleidoscope of feelings swirling within. The yearning for closeness, an all consuming flame, fuels a rollercoaster ride of deep attachments tinged with the shadow of abandonment's fear. Within every shared moment with Chris, emotions burgeon like a garden in bloom, the heart's cadence a melody of fervor entwined with the tender tremors of vulnerability.

I once believed love to be cruel, but now, after knowing Chris' kindness, I see the reflection of cruelty in my own mirror. Yet, the true architect of this callousness lies within the merciless hands of my mother. If society deems abortion as murder, then perhaps murder could have spared me. My mind, never having been a sanctuary, crumbles to dust under the weight of these drugs, a wasteland of thoughts and shattered dreams I once believed, come to find I might not make it to 25.

In the echoes of my prayers, God's betrayal reverberates through the hollow corridors of my soul. My house echoed with fervent supplications, pleas for salvation, for deliverance, for an ounce of mercy. Yet, amidst the litany of pleas and ancient invocations-Vardan Dievo Tevo ir Sūnaus ir Šventosios Dvasios, Amen -there echoed a deafening silence, an emptiness where divine grace should have resided. If indeed he is a father, my father, then he's an absentee, a derelict figure in the realm of paternal care.

My main goal in death is to blow up heaven.

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As I returned to LA after a lengthy journey, a sense of exhaustion engulfed me, leaving me more hollow than ever. Behind my vacant gaze resided a void, an absence of coherent thoughts. After stopping by my apartment, the Uber ride to Chris' house commenced, I was going to see Jules, my belongings stowed away, leaving me with nothing but my phone in hand, blasting shattered amethyst by suicide boys on repeat. Chris was relieved that I wouldn't be tormenting his spotify with suicide boys songs anymore.
The world outside seemed distant, disconnected, and I could sense the weight of my presence darkening the atmosphere.
I'm sober. My sober state only amplified the sense of detachment, making my very existence feel like a gloomy shadow.

After pulling up to Chris' house, we payed the uber and stepped out the car.
His house was really nice, you could tell they make good money from their job.
Attempting to drown the external silence with the music, I was abruptly pulled from my reverie as Chris removed my headphones, scolding me, as my choice of music was the apparent reason for why I, quote on quote, was so depressed.

With a resentful glare, I complied, shutting off the music and pocketing my phone.
I carelessly walked up to the door of his home, he followed up behind me as I banged on the door. Chris gently guided my hand away, "Woah! you can just knock, like they'll hear it, trust me." he advised calmly.

"I am knocking?" I retorted defensively.
"No, you're banging on the door." He corrected, raising his eyebrows with his habitual subtle head movements.
Before I could protest, one of his brothers swung open the door. "Jesus Christ, I thought we were getting swatted." He said, by his voice, I assumed it was Matt. I heard him talking on the phone to Chris, and Nick sounds really distinct.
Matt engulfed Chris in a soft hug. "Finally." Said his brother with a palpable relief.

I lingered briefly before swiftly stepping past them into the house. "Is Jules here?" I inquired.

"Uh..yeah, she's taking a shower."
I scrunched up my eyebrows, looking back while walking up the stairs that were weirdly placed at the entrance of the house, "A shower? what time is it?"
"4pm." Matt replied.

"Is Nick still sleeping?" Chris asked, walking up the stairs behind me. "Yeah." Matt confirmed.
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As Jules walked into the living room, I shot her a bright smile, standing up to hug her. I wrapped my arms around her neck and shoulders, bringing her in tightly before letting go. "What's good, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Hey, listen Clo..." She started, "I think I should stay here. He knows where you live and I don't want you getting dragged into this."

I let out a huff, looking over to Chris and Matt for reassurance that she can stay there. "She can stay here if she wants it's no big deal." Matt said in a nonchalant tone.

I turned my gaze from him back to Jules, "Alright then, well I'm gonna get home then." I said, hugging her again before turning away. As I said bye to the guys and turned to walk towards the door, Chris stopped me, tugging softly at my waist. "Why don't you stay the night?" He asked quietly, which gave him a slight rasp in his voice.
"I mean, I don't know..." I nodded my head slightly side to side as my eyes wandered away from his.
His fingers brushed my hair behind my ear, making my gaze turn to him. "You don't want to?" He asked gently.
"I'll call you." I said with a light smile. I just really wanna get home, get high and play gta with Cam.