Matt and I decided to go out for dinner. It's been two months since his "incident." He told me he wanted the medication, so we went and got it. He doesn't take it, though. I told him I'd prefer him not to, and he agreed.
I took him to a fancy restaurant. He liked those kinds of things, so, why not? We got there and we ordered out food. "Thank you, Nate. I really appreciate this."
" Of, course. Anything for you. How many cuts today?" Matt smiled and pulled up his sleeve. No new cuts. I hugged him.
"I'm so proud of you." He smiled that adorable smile and looked down, blushing. I always told him I was proud of him, but today was the first day he hasn't cut.
After dinner, I took him back home, and we sat on the couch. "Hey, Nate, I'll be back..."
I was worried, but said okay anyways. After a few minutes, he wasn't back, so I ran up to his room. He was on the floor, crying. I hugged him from behind the same way I did two months ago. I rocked him back and forth, trying to comfort him. "Matt, talk to me. What's wrong?"
He shook his head violently. "Nate, the voices... They're back." I was scared. I was. He told me two months ago that there were these voices in his head that told him... Things. They told him to go kill himself, that he was useless, stupid, ugly, things like that.
"Ignore them, baby." Baby? No. I don't like him. "Don't let them get to you. You're perfect the way you are." I don't love him. "Don't let the voices tell you otherwise." I can't. "I love you." I love him...
