Forest Watchers!

Weaving Lies

TRIGGER WARNING!

The following text has topics of suicide, self harm, and harassment. Please do not read if any of this triggers you. 

                     Text Type: Very short Snip bit. Angst.

                     Words: 333

                     Now this, Steven knew it was not true. Even so, the words fell from his lips as they began to weave a fake truth, a lie spun out of dread. Steven could not tell his husband about the lines that used to decorate his wrists, or the tic-tac-toe games he would play with his thighs. He could not bring himself to mention the words spoken by the other children, the curses and swears used to taunt him. The names he was called as he tried to pick his way through the finely spun locks of harassment, grief, and longing. He never spoke of the noose or the hospital visits; Steven spoke of those years as if he had the best time of his life, he spoke of the parties and dances, the hugs and hellos. Never did Steven once mention the needle or the farewell.

                  He refused to look his husband in the eye as his mouth began to spin a fake truth while his mind replayed this tale of lies that was woven from his sorrow. The hollow words had dug deep into his soul, leaving holes where the truth once flowed. Even the bed felt fake on it's shaky frame, and the blankets felt heavy as the morning rain. He wouldn't stop talking, his mouth wouldn't stop running. He told his husband how he had wished it'd been but not how it was, or ever will be.  

              Steven knew the scars he bore, not of flesh but of spirit. They marked the many years - a thousand cuts of pain, a million slights of shame. Though his husband listened to every detail, his hand resting on his. His mind went along with the story, playing out every word but his heart told him to dig deeper and find his hurt.