Silverfish

Zero Dimension Process

I wonder if anyone hears me crying at night–I turn all of the lights off and scream into the darkness, hoping none the wiser.

However there of course is a smaller part of myself that closes off from the rest, pushes beyond the barriers of self recognition and rationality and begs for help. Some kind, any kind.

I took two tablets of hydrocodone, hoping to fall asleep quickly, to forget regret and fade away into the night. And it worked, it made me numb to everything.

I went on a walk in the dark as a pathetic attempt to calm myself down. The air was thick and difficult to breathe. Perhaps that was my own doing, but regardless, it was a summer evening. I was afraid to walk down the long, empty road leading towards a majority of the camps and farms, which were surrounded by small rivers and lakes, almost entirely forgotten, due to my trepidation and conscience of snakes.

I turned back early, even though I really wished I hadn't, and made my way back towards my parents' house.

They didn't hear me enter, thankfully, and soon after I absconded back into my room.

It was beginning to become something I dreaded doing, retreating back into my own solitude, when before it was more of an escape, an experience.

Everything was just so loud, screaming into my ear, blame and doubt and regret. Terrible things. It was hard to shake them.

He thought I tried to kill myself. He freaked out, he said he would call the cops. He said if I died today, he would die tomorrow.

I didn't like that, I knew it was toxic. But I didn't stop talking to him. I knew that I annoyed him, and brought him on so much stress and anxiety he didn't need. He shouldn't have to take care of me, he shouldn't have to constantly worry.

And of course I only want what's best for him, but the lines between what he wants and what he needs was blurring together into an incoherent mess. It's difficult to understand, and nearly impossible, but I know it has to be done.

Because I fuck up all the time, I know what I do. I'm aware I'm only causing problems for him, and I don't even want to kill myself.

Perhaps I just need a break, and as hard as that may seem it might just be necessary. Because we can't be friends, not even a little bit.