Cold-hearted love

10. Sage

The blond man left as quick as he came afterwards, somehow I felt like I knew him. He seemed so familiar. Holden disappeared and I don't blame him. I never went another round so it wouldn't have mattered whether he stayed or went. Holden is. . . someone who I considered a semi-decent person. He's a good person and I suppose I've always envied that he or anyone else who's like him is. We were. . . acquaintances more often than not. To me he was one of the few very innocent people at this miserable school. Some people are better off ignorant and innocent.

When I have sex I don't pay attension, my eyes are closed most of the time or it's dark enough I can barely see; It's dark enough they can barely see me. I don't want intimacy, I don't even want to be there mentally. But this time it was different. 

And I had to fight, to fight to keep my eyes closed. To keep from feeling because it had felt amazing like my whole body was fire. A warmth. A piece of me was tying together.

I must be losing it.

Blondie tore off my bra. Now that I think about it, he might've been a grown man from how large his body was. But what does it matter? I've done things with grown me before. And it'll only piss Elm off more so who cares. The only person I knew who was that big was. . .no way in hell. 

It was a cold night. I liked cold nights. So cold I could see my own breaths. It's nights like these I block Elijah from hearing my thoughts or be present.

I lit the cigarette behind in my pocket without much effort.

 The ashes fall on me hoping it could erase myself loathing. And the memories. It didn't. 

Slut. That's one of the many words that comes to mind.

 Everytime I had sex I used to puke my guts out. I couldn't handle it but I was too fucking stubborn. My lungs felt like they were closing in on themselves. Drugs, alcohol and smoking were a vice. I couldn't remember the last time I properly sober. But this time, I didn't claw myself in disgust, or . . . worse. His touch almost felt like home. And I had a feeling of. . .but that was absurd. Holden's touch were what made me want to die. I didn't blame him. . .now. While it was happening, I had but that was out of my control. 

I might never like sex but it wasn't my fault, it was his.

 Bile rose to my throat at the thought, I took more hits. 

The only reason I let Blondie join was because his presence somehow felt comforting through it.

Igneous, my favorite of my shadow creatures. I let him roam free, releasing him from me. Sometimes in the wild, I let him roam. My favorite and only physical companion over the years— one that stayed through everything. I could see through his eyes, he barks rabidly at students who were fucking ran away, not seeing him, as he blends so well in the shadows. I could see him tearing through the forest, running around, like the giant wolf he is.

At least a part of me gets to be free. My shadow creatures didn't have feeling but I had a special connection to them, especially Igneous. I lived through them.

I needed a break from Elijah. I rarely blocked him out and I knew if he truly wanted to he could tear down my wall and I, vise-versa. But he allowed me this, knowing I needed the privacy, however little it was. It was known that I was a private person and Elijah Archevez tore down every defense I have— literately.

I walked to the edge of the cliff, overlooking a river. It was a sight, with reflection of the moon on the water. I briefly contemplated jumping.

It's nights like these that I allow myself to feel, however little I can. Nights like these I wonder about the semi-normal life I'll never have. Nights like these I allow myself to grieve for me, knowing no one else would. No one else could. If not for me, it would be for that little girl who didn't know the full extent of the world's cruelty. It's nights like these I let myself pretend I'm free and alone in the world.