WolfStar Heaven

Numb

Trigger warning: reference to self-harm, nothing too graphic

Hey guys. I haven't updated in ages, I know. I don't know if you guys read my announcement or not, but I've been going through some crap that's made it hard for me to write. I've put a trigger warning on this one, because I'm not sure about y'all's triggers and better safe than sorry. Thanks for all the comments as well by the way, when I read them they honestly make my day, just knowing that someone cares about me and my little stupid hobby. As always, the characters don't belong to me and I have no intention of getting money from this little venture. Hope you enjoy.

I close my eyes and sigh, letting the thoughts flood my head. The thoughts about him, the bad thoughts that I shouldn't be thinking, they're unnatural and horrible but I have no self-control and somehow I always arrive at this point. At him. At his hair and that damn leather jacket that he never takes off, not even during class, not since that one time we went op-shopping and damn. I close my eyes and try and stop the steady flow of thought. I tell myself 'no' and bring up an image of some actress. The sort of person my dad would want me to think about at my age. The sort of girl. Actually, he wouldn't mind which girl I thought about as long as it was a girl, but that's harder than it sounds. I've been friends with girls most of my life, and not one of them is appealing to me in that way and then the even worse thoughts come.

No matter how hard I try not to think, I try, I do, as soon as my brain gets stuck on boys, that other part of my brain pipes up. The one that speaks with my dad's voice. The one that tells me that I'll never be good enough with a man's hand held in mine. The one that says that I'm not worthy of any love, let alone the unnatural kind. I start to cry, and then all of a sudden I'm asleep. I sleep and I dream of nothing and everything at the same time.

I wake up feeling numb the next morning. I'm on the floor, having somehow wrestled myself off the bed. The first thing I hear is yelling, and then I remember that it's time. Time to go back to school, back to Hogwarts, and even though it's only been two weeks since I've seen the boys and Lily I miss them. My dad's house is nothing compared to the home I've built with them. But then I think about what waits for me at school, and I'm not so excited anymore. I can't remember if I was even 'excited' to begin with. Just numb, emotionless. A hurt that's so painful I can no longer feel it.

Then I'm on the train, alone. The others are on the train somewhere, but I can't face them today. They'd never understand this deep numb feeling in my soul, they're just normal kids, and I'm jealous. Jealous that they got to have proper childhoods, and jealous that they will get the chance to grow into normal adults with wives and families and whatever else. I can't imagine a future version of myself, one that survives into adulthood, but boy can I imagine them. My, those boys' futures are looking bright from here. My mind flashes back, without warning, to the last time I saw him. The thing I've been repressing all Christmas break. He's probably told the others by now. I won't be able to run away from it anymore.

The boys were all out at the feast, eating, having fun. I couldn't bare to go down with them, couldn't bare to spend one more second with them. I really did and do love them, but they were so happy and I was so not. It didn't feel right. Instead, I made my excuses and lay on my bed, the same thought circling around my head. The same terrible thought. It called out to me, reminding me about the knife hidden in my suitcase. It had circled around my head about a dozen times before I lunged for the knife in an almost desperate fashion. But, alas, I was too late. Someone was coming up the stairs and there wasn't enough time to hide what I was about to do.

A quick shake of my head and the thoughts are gone. For now. I stand up and walk around the train, trying to escape somehow. Trying to stop feeling so... uncomfortable and strange in my own skin. Moving about doesn't help, it never has, but I can't stop myself from doing it. Then Lily's there and oh crap. Lily has the magical gift of what she calls 'reading hearts', but really we've just known each other since forever. She always knows when something is up with me, which is unfortunate when I don't want to talk about it, thank you very much.

"Remus? Are you ok?"
No.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Oh, ok. You just look a bit... off?"
Please, I'm fine, just go away.
"Yeah, I was sick over the holidays, but I'm better now, promise. I am completely fine."
"Oh. Uh, that sucks. Are you sure you're ok? I... Remus... How was your dad?"

Same as always. The epitome of manhood and scariness.
"Fine. He's fine."
"How about Sirius?"
"What about him?"
Oops that was a bit snappy. Christ, she won't go away after this. She knows I'm only snappy when...
"Remus. We talked about this. You've got to talk to other people about your relationships, especially me. I won't tell anyone, promise. What if we went to the Room of..."
"No. I. Can't. Sorry. Bye."

Crap. Lily's always so well-meaning, and I always stuff it up when she's trying to help. She can't help, but no matter how many times I tell her, she always pops up with her well-meaning advice about eating better food and staying hydrated and talking to him. Well I'm sorry, but I can't. It's not like there's a valid reason either. There's just this sense of not being able to do the things that are best for me. There's a wall up in my brain stopping me from speaking up or asking for help or even eating. Eventually she'll ask the million dollar question. She'll notice how I got dangerously thin over Christmas, and how, even though the moon was not full, I managed to acquire a new set of scars.

Then we've reached the point where I can no longer avoid the others. I don't go to the welcome feast, but the four of us still share a room and oh god. I can't stand their worry. Their talk about me, even their talk to me. He's the first to come up. Of course he is. He's in the room early, and I can see on his face that he wants to talk to me. He wants answers that I can't give him. He wants to know the things that I could tell him but I just can't.

I want to tell him that sometimes I feel simultaneously so much and so little and that it's unbearable. I want to tell him how sometimes I feel numb all over and sometimes feeling numb is the perfect time for intrusive thoughts to take hold. How sometimes the thoughts are more welcoming than reality. Even if sometimes those thoughts lead to harm and blood and yet more ugly scars. I want to tell him that I love him and that I wish his love was enough. How it's not enough because this stupid brain of mine will never believe him when he tells me he loves me.  

So this might have to be a two-parter... I know, I know, I never get around to finishing those, but I will this time. The weekend's coming up, so who knows? Y'all might get two updates the same week. Thanks again for reading this far, I love you guys so much. 

xx Alex