Infatuated (girlxgirl)

you are here and you are okay.

I wake up drenched in sweat, my breathing ragged and throat dry. Reoccurring nightmares are something that happen to little kids with their wild imaginations. It shouldn't be happening to a fourteen year old now.

I sit up, slip my hands behind my head and lean them on my neck at the back to get rid of the stiff feeling growing around my body. You are here and you're okay. I repeat this mantra in my head until my breathing begins to become a semi-what normal rhythm.

They're all just dreams. You are here and you are okay. Once my hands stop shaking I reach for my phone charging on a throw pillow on the floor and press the button to check the time. 4:07am, not a time I could call or text Jo.

I key in my password, and click on my texts, seeing Jo's conversation at the top from 5 odd hours ago, saying how I hope she dreams well and I'm here if needs be. I'm always here, I hardly sleep. Why sleep when one) you know you get bad dreams and two) there's so many other things that could use up the time your brain rests.

My fingers drag from the top of the screen downwards, scrolling through our chat until I find what I want too read. She has been going on about what she sees for our future all day and I've been enticed and locked onto her every word for the outgoing hours I've spent today, just admiring her through it all.

I mean, I can openly say I am not perfect and I'm by far f*cked in the head but there's only one thing I'm sure about and it's I'm hopelessly in love with this damaged yet perfect girl who has been through hell.

The messages consist of what our future house will look like, where we will live, our jobs, pets and future kids. It's perfect and to save myself from scrolling back to this, I screenshot the whole conversation and save it in a new album titled "reasons to stay alive."

Jo tends to be a heavy sleeper depending on how loud her text notifications are but as I needed her earlier on she thinks I've been okay since, she has silenced it. She only keeps it on loud when she knows I'm not okay because she'd do anything to keep me happy and okay.

I don't resist I just do. I message her, only once careful not to wake her up even though it's on silent. I can feel my body heat up and I knows what's about to happen. I don't want to wake her but I know what I do will hurt her even more. My wrists begin to itch and the temptation is overwhelming but I still don't scratch at them.

I text her again asking her to please wake up, knowing she probably won't but I still try. 5 minutes go by, my eyes have been staring between the clock on my bedroom side and the messages on my phone, hoping that maybe Jo reads them and tells me everything will be okay.

I breathe in and out looking for something to help distract myself from the burning in my wrists. I've read all my books, I have nothing to write, no drawing ideas. I get off my bed and crawl on to all fours searching underneath for my old bag. I needed what was in it.

My hands shake as I undo the zipper on the little pocket at the front of the bag and I see the glint and shine of the reflection of metal. I go to reach in and pull just one out but I feel my chest tighten and empty the whole lot onto my bed, throwing the bag across the room.

My nerves calm at the sight of them all. Nine, ten, eleven... I release the breath I didn't know I was holding and pick one up, running the edge along my finger. Think of her. But I couldn't. My mind was frantic and it just kept repeating the same things. I deserve this, I should do this, nobody cares about me.

But she does. Maybe she doesn't have to know. Maybe it's better to keep secrets that could cause harm to somebody else if they found out.

I go to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible so I didn't wake anybody up. The last thing I need is somebody walking in on me bleeding with tens of blades and sharp objects scattered across my duvet. I go into the cupboard and pull out a red (lucky) flannel and hold it under the tao and run it. When it's damp I ring out the excess water and take it back to my bedroom.

The only light coming from my room is the light of my front screen on my phone and the streetlights in the gap of my curtains. There's no new messages but I've left my phone unsilenced and it was still on Jo's chat, waiting.

I deep breath again, in through my nose out through my mouth. I got this. I don't need this. The need is too much. I search through all the blades again and fall on the one which looks triangular, the blades edge the longest line. It was the shiniest out the lot.

I feel my eyes burning at the sides, a different sensation than the burning in my wrists. They glaze over and I can feel them brim with tears. I must not cry. I'm better than that.

I hear the ticking from my clock grow louder and louder and the light from my phone makes it unbearable to look at. I slowly press the cold metal against my wrist and move it back and fourth slowly, not pressing hard, no cuts or scratches or even marks caused.

I like the way it feels in my hand, like I'm in control now. I take one more breath because I press down harder over near my vein diagonally. I drag it across a centimeter, hard enough to draw blood, red replaced where the blade was but before I could get any further a buzz sounded, louder in my eyes than it probably actually was.

Jo had messaged me. "Baby?" Then another. "Everything is going to be okay, put down that blade for me." My eyes brim again, surprised by how much she knows me. Surprised that from a few texts she knew I was holding a blade and knew this is what i was doing.

I can't bring myself to message her yet, guilt filling me at the fact I was bleeding. This would hurt her. My phone buzzes again and again and again and all I could do was sit there and read what she sent. Everything she was saying was making me feel like I didn't need to anymore. She made me feel less numb. She made me feel here. I feel the tears fall down my face as she continues to send me messages, telling me I'm worth everything to her, I deserve better and this isn't the right thing to do.

I nod as if she can see me, and realise how much I would make her sad over this. I will tell her in the morning about the tiny cut but for now I will thank her and promise to put my blades away. It's the least she deserves.

I care and love her too much to hurt her like that, even if it means restraining from hurting myself despite how much I'm dying to.

"I love you." Is the first message I send, to let her know I do, really, love her with all my heart.