mercury || luke hemmings

letter twelve.

dear diary,

oh, god, he's seen my soul.

he's seen the bitterness of my soul and he could still look at me like i'm a white rose. he's seen my soul and he's seen the cracks on the edges and the bandages in the middle but can see it as an accomplishment and not a defeat. he's seen my soul and i can only hope to get a glimpse of his.

i imagine it differently from mine. i imagine his soul broken in half. one half is pure and white with daisies growing under trees and grass greener than any i've seen. i imagine that the birds are singing and the sky is blue and no ounce of pain or loss has touched that area.

and then i imagine the other side as mine. cracked and frayed but still together and still healing from something i have no knowledge of.

but i can only imagine to see his soul.

he saw mine today after school when i told him i met a woman who said she knew him. he basked who it was and i was forced to tell him about my therapist and as soon as the words "i'm seeing a therapist" came out of my mouth it felt like six giant steps back into a dark place.

i was terrified he would leave because nobody wants to deal with the girl who has to see a therapist because her own problems are too big for her to handle. i was scared he would look at me in shame because he was disappointed i would give into the idea of a therapist. i imagined him leaving and never talking to me again and it may have been the worst possible scenario to think about at the moment.

but he didn't leave. he smiled. he smiled a smile that made me feel good. he smiled that smile and then looked at me and that made me smile because he wasn't leaving and he wasn't looking at me with disappointment and he was right here and wherever he is everything is okay.

"me too."

and oh god it may not have been his soul that i saw but suddenly the bruises on his arms and the cut on his lip represented more than just wounds.

suddenly i wasn't the freak who was seeing a therapist but i was the human who was getting what i needed.

luke was just as fucked up as i was and that made the world spin a little faster and the sun shine a little brighter.

we discussed mrs. reed and how nice she was and it felt different but it felt right because i didn't have to pretend that i wasn't a freak for a few minutes.

"do you think we're freaks for seeing a therapist?" i asked.

"no," he said. "no. we are human beings with problems we don't deserve and shit that we've been through. and even though we've recovered we still need help because recovery means restarting and restarting isn't always that easy. restarting takes time and effort and motivation, lots of motivation and a therapist is just helping us with that. a therapist does not label us as helpless. we are not helpless. you have to tell that to yourself and edge it into your mind or else you won't get it. we are not helpless. we are not freaks. we are survivors and we are making it through the best that we can."

and then i was happy, and i pray to god he was too.

with love,

mercury

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holla i updated really early because u guys rock ! and nobody gave me shit the last chapter for taking four years to update ! so yeah ! u ROCK !

and i'm really getting into this book now because we're getting down to the deep stuff and my you're learning more about the characters like oooOO mercury's bisexual and oooOOOOo luke's seeing a therapist ooOOOOOO i wonder why

okay goodbye pls love yourself enough to vote for this chapter or else i might have to cut off my arms and throw them at orphans o no

bye

(ps. the boys most likely sleep naked and they have probably slept naked with each other before holy shit)