Denying Dreams

9.

{Middle of 9th grade year}

Some things in this chapter may be triggering. It was hard for me to even write it because I've been at this exact same stage. If you are easily triggered I advice you to not read on.

***

And so, we were both expelled. Expelled and I could no longer see Harry. My mom sent me to therapy because she thought I was sick for touching Harry, but I never did. I never touched him and was never sick.

But maybe I am.

For being gay.

My mom said she'd accept me if I were gay, and I am and she does. She just doesn't accept my "actions" what ever the fuck that means. My mom gave up on the therapy when I was in 8th grade, saying she wanted me to go into high school "normal".

I was happy to see Niall and Liam there in on of my classes this year. They're the only friends I have because everyone else hates me. I don't hide the fact that I'm gay. Yes, there are people that tease me about it, yes there are people that bully me. They never hit me though. I've learned to fight from moving school so much and getting into a fight at the 4th school I was moved to.

Yup, ever since I got separated from Harry, I don't know. It's like a switch went off. Harry meant a lot to me. He wasn't only my best friend, he was so much more. He helped me realize who I really am. I know now that his mom is homophobic and I also know that a part of Harry, liked me too. I just know it.

He always told me he liked me.

It doesn't really matter now though. I'm a bit lost without him and I've been trying so hard to make myself used to not having him around. It's hard though. It's hard to really care about someone and not even know if they're still alive. That pain gets at me everyday. Sometimes I forget to eat, or drink anything. I stay up at night turning over, and over, and over. When I do sleep, it's not enough to let me sleep all night.

Not only that but my parents have been going at it non stop. Not my mom and Richard, but my birth dad. They fight and fight and fight, and it's always about me.

I feel like I'm at my breaking point sometimes and just want the pain to be released. To make it go away and never come back.

Only he can make that happen and I don't think I'll ever see him again at this point. It's been years since I've seen him. Why would he come back now?

I'm at my breaking point almost. But why wait for the breaking point when you're already half way there?

That's what this razor is doing for me. Helping me get to my breaking point. It sits on my bathroom sink but I'm not sure if I want to use it yet.

"I can do it.", I say to myself.