I was done. The day was dark and dreary, as were the thoughts that loomed my mind. Days had gone on and soon it was two days after Christmas, I couldn’t take it.
Through the month of December, I had heard a lot of things about myself I wasn’t even aware of. Did you know that I had an STD, and that I lost my virginity at twelve? For I wasn’t mindful of this information until Jena had told me herself. At the beginning of the month, my mindset was one of a warrior’s. Don’t let them get to you; you’re worth more than the words of a coward. Now, I get sick to my stomach at the thought of school.
If you heard the thoughts that surfaced my mind in the midst of the night, you’d throw me in a mental institution with no hesitation. People’s harsh words had turned into my own, and I was just done. Half-suicidal tendencies because fully-suicidal tendencies and soon enough, I had relapsed after being self-harm free for two years. The self-harm originally started the first time my dad slapped my mom. My siblings were clearly busy, my friends all perceived me as a girl with a perfect life, and at the time I believed that was the last option. Nobody noticed, and for those two years I was on a rollercoaster that only went down. I had to façade this perfect person, always smiling and laughing. People saw me as the happy girl, but they were not aware of the sorrow-filled girl, numb to her fingertips and screaming with a silence only she could hear.
When I had relapsed, it was two days after Christmas. Mr.Patelli had called me over to the corner of the room, explaining how Ashton didn’t get to write me a reply, because his mother had an accident and that he has to attend to family issues. My mom and dad had filed for a divorce, and while I was happy, I was also terrified of the loud silence that was soon to fill my house. My panic attack began, and I hadn’t realized what I had started again until the familiar red, metallic liquid dripped down my thighs.
When the clock had hit 3:00am, I found myself still awake, staring at the ceiling. I grabbed my phone, flicking through the call log until I spotted the long-distance number. The loud phone rings alongside my heavy heart beating quickly filled my ears, until I heard the croaky, thick accent I had been longing to hear.
“Lauren? Are you okay?” Ashton’s voice boomed.
“Ash…” I began to speak, my voice cracking. I had to tell him, he deserved to know.
“Ash… I’m so sorry…” “Lauren, please tell me what happened, you’re worrying me.”
“I-I relapsed, I couldn’t help it I’m sorry, and I know this is a horrible time because what happened with your mom, but everything has just been crumbling around me. I'm so tired of losing people! My friends are all gone, my friends turned against me, my parents are divorcing, my siblings don’t give a fuck and I’m just done okay?” I began to bawl, my muffled sobs engulfed me, making me gasp for air.
“Babe, oh my god- I wasn’t there for you, I can’t- don’t be sorry, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, I-.” I could hear Ashton crying, and it broke my heart. The thing about self-harm, it’s impulsive. You just want to do it, whether it was the best day of your life or the worst. When I relapse, I’m not thinking about anyone’s thoughts on me doing it, until after it’s done. Ash breaking down had killed me, because I didn’t realize on how much it impacted Ashton.
“It’s not your fault. Please Ash, please don’t beat yourself up about it, I know you care. It’s just impulsive okay?” I sniffed. I could hear him breathing heavily, and it was silent for about two minutes.
“I care about you. We’ve gotten so close over the past few months, and I’ve never met you. You’re worth so much more than hurtful slurs, and I’m so sorry that I’m not there to be there for you. I want to be there for you. You’re not alone, okay? You’re never alone, and I’m not telling you to stop, because I know that it’s so much harder than that, but I just want you to know that you mean so much to me, and that hurting yourself just hurts me too. Please find a reason not to hurt yourself. Whether it’s me, or your favourite band, just please. Anytime you want to, just call me and I swear to my life I’ll be there for you, even if it’s at four in the morning for fuck’s sake. I just need you to be okay.” He cried. I was speechless. I wasn’t sure how to reply. “Thank you? You’re right? I care about you too?” Unfortunately, I ended up blurting out everything I could think of.
“Ash, I don’t know what to say. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me for so long, and I couldn’t be more thankful for you. Thank you, and I don’t mean that in the simple context that it is, I mean thank you. I know you’re always there for me, I never doubt it, and I care about you just as much. I love you.”
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cliffhanger, lots of stuff to come x
YOU ARE READING
snail mail to australia // a.i
Hayran Kurgu"until whenever, lauren" "with love, ash x"
