I never really intended to tell Alex about my past but he somehow worked his way into my head and cracked to code to get my mouth to tell what my eyes had hidden. But somehow he cracked it. He got to know my past. I regret saying it. I regret looking into his eyes tonight.
I told him about my drug abuse and the struggles of how I see myself. Never could I expect myself to tell someone everything I hate about myself without flinching. But I did. I looked him dead in the eyes and I told him I hated myself. I told him I wanted to die. And he listened. The hurt in his eyes at every word made me notice that people are too fragile to understand why you'd want to hurt yourself but, he did it too. I'd seen them. He had good excuses for them too. No one could suspect him to do such a thing because of who he seemed to be. It was his disguise. His own flesh hid the truth. What irony.
It became dark and here I was with this boy, in his bed. No, I wasn't interested in sex and neither was he. We were just laying there, talking. Talking about things no one else could know, it was our pillow talk. A safe haven of secrets and lullabies and songs, everything you can imagine. He showed me a song that reminded him of me. It's the one stuck in my head to this day. It suffocated me because the song seemed dedicated to me.
By the end of the pillow talk I ended up wrapped in his arm. It felt nice to not be let down tonight. His arm felt like a total comfort zone for me.
Normally I could never sleep at night till it was past 2 am. But tonight, with him here. I felt safe and relaxed. My feelings of loneliness vanished. I felt like I meant something tonight. And maybe I did. I don't think it's okay to feel this way when you know it can never last.
