The Flower Crown Boy

Chapter 20

I was just staring at the blank blue wall. I couldn't help but let a tear escape from my eye. He's gone. He hates me. I love him, but he doesn't love me. He left me, broken. I got up, and strolled over to the dark brown door, closing it, so no one could hear my sobs. I trudged over to his bed, and collapsed on it, letting the misery take over my body. The guilt. For what I had done was wrong of me. I need to make things better, for everyone, for myself.
Laying beside me, was a box. It was an old converse box that I had, with memories to when I was happy. The things I had to let go. On the other side of me, were objects that must go into this box. Things I have to let go. I raised the white flower crown in my hands, just thinking. It was the first one I've ever made. I could picture the smile on his face, it stretched from ear to ear. I kept my head down as I was making it that night, but, I had seen a few glances from him. I placed the crown on my lap, and used the sleeve of one of his sweaters that I was wearing to wipe the tears away. Once again, I picked up the crown, and placed it into the box. My lips were trembling, but I refused to let out a single sob, because that proves I'm weak. Next was our pictures together. We looked in love, we were in love. Or maybe it was only me who had been in love. If he loved me why would he leave me? I simply put these in the box, because they didn't have much meaning. Lastly, the hardest part. I picked up the framed photo, and held it in my unsteady hands. Just remembering the day, my life had turned around. The first day, that my world of hell, disappeared. The day, I saw my light, my reason to be here. The day, he was at the flower field the same day I was. I remember that day, like the back of my hand. How he saw me, and posed for me. That was the first day in a long time, I didn't have to fake a smile.
Soon, after gazing into the past through a picture, I turned it over, and took the back off of the frame. This, would be the hardest thing to let go. I took the large photo out, and folded it up. It laid in my hand, which was trembling above the box. This was something I never wanted to let go, but I must.
I finally got the strength to drop it in the box. Once I closed the box, tears kept flowing out of my eyes. I looked at the wall, letting the sadness overwhelm me. I looked around the room, with a lump in my throat and saw his bag in the corner. I remembered when we had our first class together, he called me Lewis. I remember thinking he was annoying, now look at me. I'm pathetic. I'd give anything to have him hold me again. Harry, was always protective over me, and now, I've lost him. I'll never forgive myself for hurting him. It only really hurt me in the end. He's helped me realize who I truly am and I ruined everything.
Soon, the sadness turned into anger, but not towards Harry, towards myself. All I ever do is mess things up. I reached in my pocket, and grabbed a golden bag, in it was my pencil sharpener blades. I rushed in Harry's bathroom and rolled up my sleeve.
I broke down in the pair of someone's arms. "Your better than this." I heard Gemma say. I dropped to my knees on the floor, dropping the blade. She bent down and picked me and the blade up. She handed me the blade, and I looked at her in confusion. "I lost Harry. I'm not losing you too." She told me. She guided me to the toilet, and said "drop them." I looked up at her, feeling her faith in me by the look she's giving me. My eyes gazed the toilet, and I dropped the blade. I looked back up at Gemma, a small smile played on her lips. Once she caught a glimpse of me looking, her face went serious, "I think you need to do the next part by yourself." She told me. "I'll be waiting outside the door okay?" She asked. I didn't say a word, I just nodded. All I'm doing is holding back the tears wanting to fall. Once she shut the door, leaving me alone, all I did was think. Do I really need this? To stop? I caught a glimpse at my wrist. It's not enough. All I am is nothing. I stuck my hand in the cold water, and grabbed the blade. I knew Gemma would check, so I put it in my shoe, preying it won't cut my foot. She wants me to stop. She doesn't understand. I just can't stop. I can't stop feeling worthless, feeling ugly, feeling blamed, feeling hated. I can't stop the nothingness on this world. I can't stop being me. And I hate me. I try to change what I am, but I can't. I'm stuck like this, I'm stuck broken. Harry, he found the missing pieces, he was just about to put them in place. But he left, he ran, making every piece of me, out of place, broken.
I got up and looked in the mirror. "Nothing." I quietly spat to myself through this disgusting refection. A smile can hide so much, it can hide a frown, it can hide sadness, as long as you raise your eyebrows a bit. But eyes, hide nothing. I look into my cold blue eyes which have darkened from my lack of sunlight, all I can see is pain. Pain, that I can't describe, pain, that leads me no where, with no one but myself. No one is a danger to me, other than myself. I hate myself. I want to die, but a part of me that I want to get rid of, a part of me that is in love, keeps me hanging on. Helps me think I have a future, that this isn't over. So, I hang on. I put the fake little smile on my face and raise my eyebrows a bit, and flush the toilet. Making it sound like I flushed the blade. I walked out there, and drowned in my own lies. "It felt good, thank you Gemma. I realized, that hurting myself was just a way to mask my pain. I'm getting better, I can just feel it." I said, giving her hope, and wishing it was convincing. She smiled, "So your okay?" She asked, you can hear the joy in her voice at the thought that she helped. "Yeah yeah, I'm fine!" I told her, and I walked out. Fine. Fine. Fine. I'm fine. That means so much.
I was fine, that New Years back when I was just in middle school, hearing the laughter of my family, as I was left alone, with no one.
The truth is, I've been left out so much in my life, that I've come to the conclusion that I'm not fine. I'm broken, I was born broken, I was meant to be broken, I was meant to be gay, I was meant to meet Harry and have him leave me so I can realize, there is no place for me here. But, I choose to stay, I choose to suffer, for what? To find love? I already have, and it broke me more. For friends and family? All they do is end up leaving me. There is no point for me here, and I stay, why? Because, I'm being me. Broken, the way I'm suppose to be, until someone finally drives me, to my breaking point, to the point where I step off the chair and kick it, so there is no turning back and in order to stay alive, I have to use my strength. But by then, Id be too drained, mentally and physically, where id let myself just hang there. Until my breathing becomes tight, to the point where I stop. To where my heart stops beating, and my head finally drops. Then I'll be filled with the nothingness that I need.
This is me. It's what I'm suppose to be.

Broken.

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So that happened...
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Anyways! I think I've become better at writing over the weeks, and I'm using bigger words I guess lol, so...
Comment/like <- it means a lot
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-Amber x