Impossible Love // Michael Clifford

Hatred: the worst thing to do to yourself

Dear journal,
Michael and I are official. But I don't know how long it will work. I mean. He's on tour.
And I'll be dead in a week.
I've changed my date. I can't wait two more.
I really think Michael will be okay without me. He tells me I'm everything to him right now but I really doubt that.
I don't know.
Maybe I'm just scared of being hurt again...
I put my journal away under my bed and picked up my phone. I tweeted Michael telling him I love him, a lot.
He called me up after he saw it.
"Zivian, what's up? Everything okay?"
I started crying then. I couldn't help it. I told him how much I hated myself.
I confessed my suicide date.
I couldn't stop crying so I hung up. He tried to call back multiple times but I didn't dare answer.
I grabbed the blades I kept on my bedside table.
I cut my arm at least 30 times.
Criss crossing. Short, fast cuts. I hated pain but I needed some way to feel alive.
It was the only pain inflicted on me that I could control.
There was a knock at the bedroom door.
"Go away."
"It's me."
Michael.
I opened the door and collapsed into his arms in a crying mess. He held me close and carefully closed my door.
I couldn't stop crying even after half an hour. Michael held me and stroked my hair until I could breathe again.
"Zivian, my love, what happened?" He asked sweetly when I regained my composure. He grabbed a small towel from the bathroom and started cleaning up my arm.
"I was thinking about Taylor. And how I was scared of being hurt again. I couldn't tell you I wasn't any better. I knew you'd just leave like she did. That was one reason she left me. She couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to die all the time. She hated that I would cut up my arms and legs and not tell her until the day after. She wanted Ethan. He was mentally stable. He wouldn't keep secrets from her. He was my best friend and she left me for him! I'm sorry I hate myself. I'm sorry my father abused me emotionally so I can't trust the people who tell me they love me." I wiped my eyes but cried even harder. "I just hate myself."
I felt something drip onto my face, I knew it wasn't mine. I looked up at Michael.
Tears streaked his tan face.
"No no no." I sniffled. "No. Please don't cry." I wiped his tears away and kissed him.
"I love you. I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you like that. Please trust me."
I looked him in the eyes and nodded. I kissed him again and he deepened it by pinning me down.
Butterflies hatched in my stomach.
The last night in Briarcliffe Hotel was going to be a long one.