It was Sunday and my sister was insisting that I go to school tomorrow. It was a different feeling for her to demand something from me, so I decided as an act of kindness, I wouldn't let her down.
Just to get ready for the hell that's coming my way tomorrow, I slumped off of my bed and headed towards the shower. My hair was becoming horrendously chunky due to the grease that I've built up from the week without showering. Honestly, I don't even gross myself out anymore.
I locked the door and began to shed clothes, taking a good look in the mirror while doing so. To say I hate what I saw would be so stereotypical, but fuck am I not liking what I see in the glass.
I turned on the shower, the water flow spritzing me in the face already with cold water. Automatically, I turned the dial to Hell setting and jumped in, loving the stinging I felt as the too hot water pelted every piece of skin I didn't like. There was an urge in me to take my faggot ass sponge and cleanse myself to death. God, I hope that's fucking possible.
I took a long shower, considering all I did was stand under the shower water and think about life. Of course, I've used the same method before I became broken. I just never thought I'd have so much depressing shit to think about.
I tried to think about what I was like before he came into my life. Look and see if I was genuinely happy. Maybe I was wanting more of something, but I just didn't know what. Apparently, it was him.
Fuck, Jack made me so happy.
I know that I have the strength somewhere to find my own happiness, but I sure as hell don't have it now. I also don't even know where to start with that journey.
I spend most of my time thinking about him and I hate myself for this. Mostly because I fucking know there is more to think about, I just physically can't.
Sometimes my mind strays here and there. Honestly, it doesn't stay in the same place. It never did.
I'm talking about everything happy in past tense.
Fuck
