⚠️WARNING: mentions of self harm and depressive/suicidal thoughts⚠️
Again, this is a sort of vent book. Sorry y'all.
-——————-
So... apparently Alex and Eliza are dating now. This is okay. Sure I'm a little jealous, maybe a little bummed that I missed my chance. But it's his decision right? I have no control over who he chooses, and I'm okay with that.
But I can't help the nagging feeling that I'm just not good enough. And this reminds me of the time at the lake when I thought I'm too broken for someone to love me. Maybe I was right.
Aw fuck no.
I shouldn't be reacting like this to a simple thing like that! Pull it together John... see? Progress! We're working forward in not ever telling anyone your real name. Wow. This is just making me feel so much worse.
Maybe it isn't just Alex and Elizabeth getting together. It fucking hurts when your father leaves you behind. When your whole family leaves you behind. I know they didn't want me anymore. And it seemed like Laf and Herc and Alex weren't around as much. It fucking hurts to be abandoned by your friends. And I've already explained why I can't talk to the Schuyler sisters.
I was virtually alone.
I was alone with my thoughts, my feelings, my music, and my paints. Usually I would paint my arms when I felt like this. I tried. I promised Laf I wouldn't really do it again. I promised Herc I wouldn't really do it again. I took my blue palettes and painted oceans on my wrists, my yellows to plant sunflowers on my thighs, and my reds, pinks and purples to make the sunsets on my arms.
But it wasn't enough.
I took a shower and washed it all off, blasting music as loud as I dared. I stared at old scars from earlier days, worse days, before college days.
After drying off completely, I sat on my bed shakily. I wanted to call someone. That what they said to do. That's what everyone said to do, but then they never pick up. I tried a hotline once. They're not as good as people say they are. I wanted to call Laf and talk to him like I usually did, but I didn't want to annoy him more.
So I just sat there for what seemed like hours.
I had promised Lafayette I wouldn't wrangle up any razors other than, you know, to shave, and I didn't have any knifes because I rarely used them to cook anyway, but I had scissors. Lots of scissors. I kept loosing them and having to buy more, and more, and more, so I should have had a pair somewhere around there.
Aha.
I twisted the red handle of the blades in my hand for a minute before wrenching them open and pressing the corner of the blade against the soft skin on the inside of my left forearm, shivering at the cold metal.
I dragged it across my skin like it was a red pen.
It felt so damn good.
It was like... it was like everything I had been keeping in was coming out through the new wound on my arm. I felt morbid happiness as a drop of red fell onto the floor.
That's when the guilt hit me. The piles and piles of guilt and questions and accusations that only made me feel worse and worse and want to do it again.
How would I hide it? Should I hide it? I didn't want to lie, but I also didn't want to be breaking a promise- Well, too late for that I guess. I really didn't want to lie. But how disappointed would Laf and Herc be when they found out? If I told them? Now it was getting on the floor. I had cut again without even realizing it. Well if it gets on the floor I could just say I dropped some paint, they'll buy that, and I can say I got attacked by a-by a Uh uh a cat, there's a cat on campus named Munchkin-
Before I could stop myself, I was hyperventilating and staring at my arm as my panicked brain was trying frantically to come up with a cover story. I shakily pulled out my inhaler and took a few puffs to try and calm down, but I realized that might just make it worse.
I wrapped some gauze around my bleeding arm and sat down on my bed before I could pass out from hyperventilating.
I should have just called someone.
- - -
Later that day, our favorite Frenchman literally dragged the three of us out for clothes shopping because Old Navy had a new line or something like that. I wasn't really listening. Luckily, Eliza wasn't there.
I told Laf I didn't want to try anything on today because I was tired but I would come along anyway to give my opinion. He somehow talked me into it anyway.
He found this blue button-up blouse with long sleeves that was actually kind of nice and pushed my into a changing room with it. I sighed and took off my aqua hoodie and black Voltron: Legendary Defenders shirt that said 'Space Cat Squad' on it. ((real shirt, it's awesome))
I make sure not to look in the mirror until I had put the shirt on. I turned and took a glance. It didn't look too bad, actually. But the sleeves are a little shorter than I thought they were and showed the edge to the white bandage on my arm. I took it off and put on my own clothes again, draping the nice blue shirt over my arm carefully as I slowly came back out of the dressing room and tried to decide if I actually wanted to buy it or not.
"Oh, mon amie, why didn't you show us how it looked?" Laf whined as I came out. (Not yet hahaha)
"I-I didn't know I was supposed to," I said weakly, trying to defend myself.
Lafayette gave me this look like he didn't believe me, but seemed to shrug it off. He dug through another pile of clothes and pulled out a simple burgundy button-down and replaced the first shirt with it quickly.
"Go try this one on! And please show us this time!" He urged, turning me back towards the room eagerly. I sighed and did as he asked, but this time when I looked in the mirror it was a little big and the sleeves came down just slightly over my hands. I smiled and opened the door again, with the burgundy shirt still on.
Laf squealed. "That looks great on you! Do you like it? Is it comfortable? Here, if it's a bit too big you can roll the sleeves up!" He spoke so fast that I didn't know what he was doing until he grabbed my arm and started to carefully roll the sleeves up. My breath hitched in my throat and I tugged my arm away from him quickly without thinking before he could roll it up too far. My heart was pounding.
"Thanks Laf, but I-I think it looks fine like this." I pulled my arm back to my side and made sure the sleeve was buttoned up again. I glanced up at them. Herc looked confused. Alex looked worried. Laf looked like all of the above. Shit...
We finished our shopping trip a little awkward a while later. Nobody mentioned my little outburst earlier, but I could tell they were all thinking about it. They dropped me off at my dorm and we said our goodbyes, but they were more subdued and solemn than usual. Shitshitshitshitshit.
I could hear muffled murmurs outside my door as they moved away, and it sounded like they were talking about me.
What had I done?
Sorry I haven't published anything in a while.
