I'm starting to accept this.
While Seán's eyes go black, green and red, mine go pure black, almost like void holes in my face, it'd be cool if it were a movie, it's frightening in real life. Sometimes he arrives home with his hands covered in blood, I don't know what he's been doing in his spare time. But he cries a lot when he arrives all bloodied and messy and all we've got is each other so I help him.
I run him a bath and clean him up while his head is on my shoulder and tears escape his eyes. And so, even like that, even naked and with a messy mind he still hugs me and tells me he loves me, and I love him too.
Some days its the other way around, I don't ever remember what I've done and as to why my hands would be so bloody and why there'd be a knife in my hand. But I still hug him and cry on his shoulder whilst he cleans me up.
I'm starting to like the sensation of the blood in my hands and the bloody knife in my hand and the echoes of screams in my head.
I've never felt so dead and so alive at the same time. My life is weird.
