Empty Cups

two [2]

his eyes darted towards me for a second but i ducked  away too quickly for him to notice. or i hope that he didn't. i hugged my knees as my back pressed against the wall.

i did this almost everyday. i broke down, i cried, then i watched. 

i did it again the next day.

then the next.

then the next....

crying was pointless, but it was the only thing that could make me feel numb. the only antidote and medicine.

self harming was dangerous, and after the first few times, and trips to the hospital, i stopped. and i never did it again.

i remember the look on my mothers face that day. how it was completely drained and lifeless.

how she looked so tired and worn, like this black over used sweater.

my hands shook as i grabbed for the handle of my chair to hoist myself up. i groaned and tossed my thin, yet long and healthy brown hair into a lazy ponytail.

i fled down the steps taking two at a time, looking down at the floor as i did so. i always had the tendency to look down. i was always too scared to look into people's eyes, but for him, i never had a problem.

i always thought looking him in the eyes would lead me into some tunnel called his feelings, but it never worked.

behind his eyes were walls, behind his honey glazed eyes were blockades, and it tortured me more than it should knowing that i couldn't break my way in.

my mother sat at the island drinking coffee in an old antique mug and reading the newspaper completely mindless of me.

"Gonna check the mail box." i informed slowly.

she seemed surprised by my presence but quietly nodded.

i held my breath as i walked down the hallway grabbing for the door. 

my hand wrapped around the knob and i swung it open.

the air around me got sucked in and away into thin air. my eyes fluttered, and my head spun.

"I saw you" he said.