Insecurities

Winona Figger

[some scenes might trigger something. Just a heads up :)]

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Tyler

If there's one word that can describe Winona Figger, it's probably Red. 

Red because it's her favorite color. Red makes her eyes shine. It's what I see when I look at her. What I hear when she laughs. What I feel when she hugs me. What I taste when our lips meet. What I smell when she leans in close. 

Red makes Winona and I unite. And it's so fucking weird because it's also Red that I see, hear, taste, smell, feel when she cries. Red covers her arms and legs. Red is the color of her soul. Red makes me yearn for Winona more than anything I've ever yearned for in my life.

But life is Red too. It's the color of cruelty masked in coincidence and possibilities.

Perhaps there was a way to save Winona when it happened. To stop the red flowing out her wrists.  To stop her from destroying herself. 

But I've quickly learned that saving Winona is ultimately killing yourself too. 

Because she's a calamity. Try to stop her and you'll end up being the chaos she leaves behind. 

Right now watching from afar as she tries to eat as little as she could, I still see red. I see the arms she hates so much move as she twists the cap off her water bottle. I see the way the edges of her lips lift but the light in her eyes don't light up the way it did. 

Winona is a laugher. At least, she used to. 

Now, she's doing a watered down version of her beautiful laugh. Her friends probably have no idea what's happening, except that they love the effort she's putting into losing weight. 

Her eyes suddenly meet mine from across the room. With waitresses and customers bustling about, there's no way we would have known the other was here. 

But I'm attuned to Winona's presence. Specially since I spent months basking in it. 

And now, with her eyes averted from my own stare, I finally recognize the true viciousness of the color Red. 

I feel it slither up my veins and choke me; choke me with regret. 

I taste it in my tongue like the words I spat on Winona which made her cry and hurt herself. 

I see it surround me as my mind remembers the image of Winona laughing, Winona kissing me, Winona turning away. 

The table shakes as I hold on to it, trying to regain my breath. I look up and she doesn't even look and notice what I just realized. That I regret every single thing I've done to her.

That I regret shaming her body when all this time it's always been perfect. In fact, Winona is perfect. Her pretty brown eyes lighting up when I hugged her and gave her the softest kiss on the forehead took my breath away. But I never admitted that and defended her when my friends laughed at her. I didn't even stop and take care of her when the first signs of self harm showed up. 

I still love Winona. I still do and I regret doing what I did.

But of course,  she'll never know because she's too busy burning in the hell I created. 

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I'm an asshole. And I'm currently hooked up in an IV and lying in a hospital bed watching Star Movies. But I'm still an asshole, so shut up k. 

This isn't my best work and I'm sorry if it didn't encapsulate the things that happen when someone's insecurity takes over them. I have always been the bystander, the one who watches and tries to save but goddammit she just can't. All she can do is watch as the people she loves bring themselves to ruin. 

I can't fully write about something as sensitive as this because I'm afraid it will come out half-assed and offend people. 

Anyways, I will go now bc my hand is hurting lol. Goodbye and I will accept negative comments and eat them. Bc I'm hungry and hospital food sucks.