My thoughts are winning over me.
My head hurts, my chest is tight, and my feet is cold, and I can't breathe. I can't stop the scenarios. I can't stop the echoes. I can't stop the lies, and I can't break my belief over it.
I've tried, but I still can't think straight. I keep slipping into the negativity. And I can't help but suffocate myself more in my arms. My desk is cold against my skin and so is the air, yet I'm sweating.
I have this strong urge to run away, but I don't even have enough energy to even raise my head and peek over the commotion my classmates are making.
I want to speak up and vent out how scared I am, but my lips kept itself tightly sealed when someone finally came over to ask if I'm alright.
I feel uncomfortable over the pat she makes on my back, yet I desire for an embrace to warm me up and protect me from my thoughts.
Why does it have to happen at school? Why does it have to happen when I'm around many people? Why didn't it happen before I left my room?
This isn't where I wanna be.
This isn't what I want to feel.
This isn't what I wanna happen.
"Mina, can you tell me what's happening to you?" Sana lightly waggled my shoulder. "Hey, you've been giving us cold shoulders since Monday. It's already thurs—"
I moved to the corner of my desk, away from her, and she stopped talking.
Her sigh is loud against my ear, but it doesn't sound anything near disappointed, "If you don't wanna talk, it's okay. I know it can be hard sometimes, but I can wait. I'll be just right here, okay?"
And she stayed. She sat next to me in silence. I thought she'd leave, bored and tired of me, or even feel awful for dealing with me. I mean, who'd even want to stay if they feel unwanted, anyway?
I hate myself.
I feel bad for her. I'm making her worried, but I can't comfort her. She wants to help, but I can't let her in. She wants to know what's going on with me, but I keep shutting her out.
I want to tell her that I won't be able to say anything until I'm alright again. Or until I'm too broken that I can't handle holding on my own. I want to tell her that I feel terrible, and that I'm worried, and guilty, and scared. That I can't breathe.
But even if I try to, I could only look into her eyes and pretend she can decipher all my troubles with just a gaze.
I wish no one has to be hurt when I'm hurt (but I wanna be cared about).
And this is just terrible.
