❝ ― Your like a rose, I know I'm going to get hurt picking you, but I do it anyway. ❞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I could pull the sheets over my head until I get out of this bed, but what would that do?
I laid in bed, not even the comfort of my sheets could shake away my uncontrollable shivering. Transparent, hot tears ran down my face. I pulled the blanket but nothing seamed to satisfy the insatiable desire for my suffering to stop. My lip quivered slightly as I tried to control my uneasy breaths. Panic attacks were the worst.
The sight of him seamed to make my knees buckle and make my palms sweat, I hated it. I wanted to carve out the part of me that still cared for him but every time I thought of him it made everything better. It was a dangerous game. Every time my chest began to feel heavy I thought of him and the indescribable pain went away. He was my anchor, he could pull me back to reality. I put my heart in his hands, I gave him the power to hurt me and that's exactly what he did.
I saw him today, Sam. I was in Chemistry, he stared straight at me as if he was going to say something. He never does. It's been a six months since we've broken up, six months since I've last talked to him. Thinking about him is different from seeing him. That's the reason I walked out of class, why I'm here now.
I stayed like that, paralysed in the same spot on my bed. I cried for him and for the hurt he had caused me until there were no tears left in me. My emotions were numbed, I was desensitized at least when I took my pills. I had been on medication for the last five months, you see, I had been having recurring panic attacks and they weren't getting any better.
I avoid all mirrors, cause I'm scared to look into my eyes when I, only see you.
I slowly got up, my legs began to tingle with a familiar sensation. I ambled towards my bathroom, before I had the chance to free myself of the dried salty tears which remained on my cheeks I turned and faced my mirror. My Physique was incredibly thin, my under eyes were sunken in and grey. I was incredibly pale and my Y/E/C eyes were bloodshot and red.
My first instinct was to run towards the bathroom but I stayed. That was my first mistake. My mind drifted to the night we broke up. I can't think about, but I did. My second mistake. I closed my eyes tightly, I let out a shaky breath before walking to the bathroom to rid myself of my salty tears.
It's like you're always creeping on the walls and in my feeling, all those stories about ghosts are really true?
