Freeing Myself

The Fight

"Where do we go from here? Whisper what you want in my ear, my little puppeteer."

I'm so mad I'm shaking. My face is burning and tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. My fist clenches and unclenches in time with my breathing, which I'm trying to slow. She knows she's pushing my buttons. She knows she's hurting me. This is how we deal. My depression is out of control and I'm saying and thinking things that I know I shouldn't. This is how she pushes back. I know this. I know.

"If this is too hard for you; if you want to go, then leave, I'm not making you stay. Especially if you can't handle it." She says it calmly but with an edge.

"That's not what I'm saying! I've never once said that! I just don't want to be in your way! I'm always in your way! I'm always interfering in your happiness! You just refuse to see that!" I'm yelling and now crying. I can't even contain it anymore. Everything is getting so out of control.

"Whatever, I don't even care. This is pointless." She's calm and disconnected now. I'm shattering to pieces. Every tear created a new crack in my already fragile soul. This fight was going to kill me. This was the one that determined my end.

"You act like I want to feel this! You act like I want this." My voice trails off, and breaks. The sobs just keep coming. I'm holding myself together with my own arms, not wanting to be touched for fear of breaking even more, but desperately needing someone to take care of me besides me. Then I feel her arms around me. She doesn't say anything while I just continue to cry and break. I feel weak in her arms, I try to pull away, but she tightens her hold on me making me cry harder. She has no idea the terror that goes on inside me. I'm trying to fight everything I was raised to be; I'm fighting myself all for her. She has no clue. I love her so much, and she'll never understand.