Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 74

New character: Charlie-Courtney Eaton
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Harry

Faint lights, body odor, the nauseating stench of liquor and sex lingering, the scent of sin, the sight of adultery, and I'm in the heart of it. How can you fear The Devil if you don't know what he looks like? Paintings and perspectives of those who assume haven't even seen The Devil themselves, yet they're sure it's a man. How do they know it has a tail and horns? You could look at your own reflection and see yourself but past the reflective surface you could be looking at The Devil himself. I've given up on my reflections. I don't have shadows anymore or a face looking back at me through the glass of my liquor bottles because I've learned to ignore it. I've learned to settle with my demons and live with them.

Things haven't gone according to plan. I'm supposed to be dead, bullet to the head I was aiming for, but was too much of a bitch to do it so I tried to O.D. Obviously it didn't work if I'm still fucking alive breathing the smoke of cigarettes and drugs. It's like God wants me to stay alive and suffer because I've tried to kill myself countless times. Six, if we're being specific. I burned the journal I was supposed to give to Alee and set flames to all the pages without blinking. Why the hell would I want to give something like that to someone who hates me? It's not like we loved each other or made plans about our future, it's not like we spent everyday together and laughed and cried, it's not like we were in love--except, we actually were but it meant nothing to her.

"I was never happy with you," she said and it resounded over and over again until I started seeing her. I've taken so many drugs that I don't remember my own name, home, life, or purpose. Even without her here I still see her. She's tormenting me, no, her ghost is tormenting me because she has moved on but I haven't. I left not to hurt her, but to save her. She was sick of me just as much as I was sick of us, and it was only right that I gave her what she wanted and that was a life without me. I mean, she made is perfectly fucking clear by cleaning out the entire goddamn apartment and not answering my calls that she didn't want me, so what was I supposed to do? Beg her for the millionth time to take me back because I'm going to become a "better man" for her? I couldn't feed her anymore lies because she was catching up.

Twenty-two days and 528 hours without her. I recorded every single moment in that journal. Every minute before my attempt to kill myself, every bottle I finished, every blunt I smoked, every girl I fucked to get her out of my head but every single step of the way she was there. Those girls--they were pathetic and disgusting, desperate for attention and whore-ish at will, and because they were easy I used it to my advantage. Still am.

I am not me anymore. I don't care anymore, I can't love anymore, I sure as hell can't fucking die so what the hell am I supposed to with my life now? Nothing is important to me, I don't wake up looking forward to my day, instead of having the love of my life wake up beside me I have an empty bottle of alcohol passed out in the spot where she should be. And I don't want to be fixed. I don't want somoene to help me or guide me to the tunnel that leads to my welfare. I was born into a broken family, tossed out a shattered one, and left to be alone so everything was and is from this point on inevitable. I have no motives to find peace or retribution on those who fucked up my life, I'm even living in the same city where the men who has tried to hurt her lurk all around. I just don't care.

I've become everything I was supposed to be before Alee came along. She never changed me or saved me, she never made me a better man she only ruined me. She made me weak and vulnerable, and that fucked me up. She made me love again and care for people again, she made me open my eyes and see the world in color, she made me trust holding her hand to lead me into safety with her; she did this to me! That wasn't me! My dad died for a reason, my mom left me for a reason, I fucking walk this earth with blood on my hands because this is me. Everything leading up to this very moment was because of my mistakes and choices so what am I doing now? Dealing with it.