dear diary (larvis)

journal page 2 - not myself

faith
the mirror in front of me is still broken.  my own mirror, i mean. the glass fragments were still imbedded into my knuckles and spread across the floor in mostly large pieces. some dug into my knees. i broke my own mirror out of frustration with myself, and for the fact i need to get used to the pain. it's now or never.

i stood on my window ledge, the one travis had jumped from. the glass from when we jumped was still spread across my floor in tiny pieces.

if i jumped, where would i go? i'm not like travis. i'm not in love. even if i was i have nowhere to run to. if i show up to larry's place it won't end well. and how would i even survive that jump? if travis did, so could i.

i poked my foot out of the window, gripping to the broken glass from the window. my foot was already slipping. i couldn't do it.

i pushed myself back inside, landing on my hands and knees. how could travis do this?

i just cried on my bed. i wasn't sad, or angry, just empty. i don't know how to feel but i don't want to stay here anymore. already. how could i be such a crybaby? travis has delt with this for years.

the mirror on the opposite side of my room reflected my body back at me. i could see the tears running down my face and my hair spread messily over my folded arms. my straight, blonde, unnatural hair. my natural hair is brown and frizzy like my mom. my dad forced me to bleach and straighten it so i looked more like him. i was never myself. the tears weren't mine either.

i gripped the glass in my hands. maybe this isn't the best idea. my wrists were so clear and woundless. maybe it wasn't time to change that.

i gripped my hair in my hands, pulling it down tight and dragging the glass through my hair. a few scraggly blonde hairs fell out in sections onto my lap. i could feel my hair touching my chin. i had cut my hair really, really short.

the mirror reflected me again. i looked so different. but i looked like me. i wonder what my dad would think.

i threw my hair over the sink, scrubbing the product from my hair as it slowly shrunk back to it's original texture. it was dirty blonde, short, and wavy. it had shrunk to the bottoms of my ears, and the bangs i had before that were once towards my eyes had turned into small bangs. i secretly loved it. i missed my short curly hair.

i started to cry again. about travis.

as i gripped my curls in my hands i thought. his whole life he's felt like everything with mom is his fault. that he's a burden. that he amounts to nothing. that he's worthless. and i took part in making him feel that way. i started to think that this is who i am, and not just what i've done. i'm so destructive. so violent. i'm the female embodiment of kenneth.