It All Started With a Diary

fighting it|part 2

Enjoy! 🤍

"Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough."—Og Mandino
———————————————————

Chapter 32|part 2
<——————————————->

I snatched my arm away. "Kade, don't."

I could feel his eyes weighing on the top of my head, but I kept my own on the bed. "Why did you do it?"

I shrugged my shoulders, too embarrassed by my own self. I felt humiliated under his gaze, knowing that now he knew. No one had ever noticed them before.

"Can I?" his voice grew soft, so smooth and quiet that I met his eyes. His own held no judgment, just care. Slowly, his fingers crept around either wrists, bringing them to his lap.

I didn't know what he was thinking, but it was a torture to wait. The longer he stayed quiet, the more I wanted to run.

"Why did you do it?" he repeated the question from earlier, his eyes lingering around the scarred skin.

My lips parted but fell shut again. I'd never been asked that before; I'd never had to put my thoughts aloud to anyone nor did I have the intention to...before him.

"I..." my voice grew weak. "Everything just became too hard to deal with on my own, I guess. I haven't done it in years, but..."

I didn't realize I was shaking until he raised his head. Warm eyes met mine. "Does it hurt?" I shook my head. "They're a couple of weeks old. It was more of a spur in the moment thing, I guess. But, they're disgusting—"

"They're not disgusting," he cut me short. "They're not anything other than beautiful, Kimberly."

My throat closed up so tight, I had to shut my eyes. I felt my head shake. "They're not. They never have been."

"They've always been beautiful, you've always been beautiful, you've just never had anyone tell you," he said. "You shouldn't do it to yourself but either way, it's already done. There's nothing to do other than appreciate them for what they are, kiss your scars for your strength and carry on."

The burning behind my lids grew too strong. Tears began to slip out without a second thought at his words. They seemed to burn, so quick and relentless on my cheeks. My throat sealed tight at his next move.

His fingers grazed the skin, each one tracing over each and every scar. He said nothing, his expression growing softer the longer he did. And that was when I realized.

He was caressing my scars.

He raised his head, seeming to stare into my soul. "You're not alone, now," he murmured. "There's no need to do that to yourself, and I don't want you to feel like there is. I know you've felt like you're alone but you're not. I'm here; I always will be. Talk to me about anything and everything, I'll be here to listen. I promise I will."

His confession marked my very soul. For the first time, I didn't feel the scars ache, nor did I feel ashamed. It was like they began to shut for the first time in seventeen years.

A gasp hung in my throat as he raised my wrists to his lips. They brushed against the scars, each and every one until I felt my body ascend. He didn't miss a single one, still using his fingers to caress the marks before dropping them.

"You're the only..." I sucked in a breath, my fingers shaky as I unclenched them. I hadn't even realized they were shut. "No one else saw them. If they did, they never said anything. You're the only one."