𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 | 𝐁.𝐄

𝟖

-𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕-

feeling the presence of masc presented woman i had once begged to come over walk around the apartment, i tried to pull myself together, but i was quite literally struggling.

her not being able to find me , she said, " milan, are you here?", loud enough to be heard around the apartment.

but hearing her call out my name, and me imagining her find me in this state only made me cry more. i felt so frustrated and confused on why my emotions were scattered.

i began to sob, rather more my sniffles grew loud enough to where she could hear. that's when i heard a knock on the bathroom door.

" milan, are you okay?", she asked, all i could do was sob more. struggling to even get a single word out of my mouth.

i decided to open the door and let my expressions speak to her, because it was no point in me hiding it anymore.

when i opened the door she had an worried expression all over her face, she was quick to touch me for comfort, pulling me in closer and rubbing my arm. she asked, " what's wrong? talk to me."

her trying to comfort me only made me cry more, hearing her say the words, "what's wrong", only made me think about all the things that are wrong with me.

i couldn't reply, i almost felt like i was crippling, she pulled me closer until we was in a hug, once again another parallel was made from the amount of tears we placed onto one another's chest constantly.

" it's okay take your time, clam down", she said, rubbing a variety of places on my body to calm me down. starting with my arms, my back, my shoulders and neck as i continued to breakdown on her chest .

she pulled away when i started to ease up, and finally get myself together. she looked me deeply in the eyes, reading my emotions through eye contact.

" are you ready to talk now milan?", she asked lowly, as her hands continued to massage my arms softly out of comfort.

i nodded my head, before i could get another word out, even thinking about what i was gonna tell her made another tear fall down my face.

i admitted, " i hate myself, i hate how i look, i hate what anthony left on me, i hate that i even continued to stay with him, i just feel so stup-... fuck..", before i began to break down again, struggling to finish my statement .

" look at me ", she requested , and i did so with my eyes filled of puddles. continuously whipping the various amount of salty tears that fell on my cheeks.

she continued, " milan.. actually you know what..." , before she paused again, looking at the large mirror inside the bathroom. placing her fingers underneath my chin in a poetic grip, she once again began to finish her statement, " look at yourself".