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my love. your silence. our freedom. |
Content Warnings: suicide, self-harm, psychological distress, depictions of mental health crisis. Please read with caution if these topics are sensitive to you. Silence. No answer. A house once filled with laughter. Now, a silent graveyard. Buried memories, decaying with love. My love. I wish I could let it go. But they were all etched into my bones. My soul. Everything I had was the proof of you. Our time together, I could never let it go until the day I die. “I was terrified. You know that. You always knew that - I couldn’t look at needles without my hands shaking.” I cooed the words into the stillness, half-eulogy, half-question. But for you, I had done it. It framed in my muscles how I had gripped the armrest. Imprinted in my lungs how the artist had told me to breathe. Everything blurred together, but you. Only you. I had thought of only you the whole time. And it felt enough. I felt the pain easing. But you had only thought of the matching tattoo I’ve got. Never me. How you could brag about it to your friends. Like it was a thing you’d acquired. Love. Love. Love. They all named it love. That’s love. Your friends said. Love. The crowds cheered. Love. So where was mine? It was never there. Just a scar to my body. Beautiful to everyone except the one it was made for. I’ve heard even the deepest wounds can be mended. The most ravaged scars can be healed. I didn’t believe it until I met you. A reason. That was all I could ever ask. A reason to stay. To believe. To wield this tattoo with pride. You proved me wrong. So prove me wrong again. Tell me that I meant something to you. I looked at him. His eyes, trembling. Dilated pupils. Flicking. Back, forth, back, forth. Frantic. Like a dying star in its last minutes. His arms tied around the back of the chair. I tried my best to make it gentle. Alluring. But even now, it was clear. He’d leave. Always had. So I had given him what he always gave me. No choice but to stay. No choice but to listen. Forced company - isn't that just miserable? My time had always been an obligation to him. An ache he endured. Now he could endure mine. “Our time together, what did it mean to you?” I said, voice barely above a murmur. My heart hammered against my ribs. Burned. “Tell me something, anything..” But even anything was too much. Because it didn’t mean anything. Silence - his final judgement. The kind of silence he always gave. When I asked something was wrong. Was I not enough. Was I worthless. Silence. Silence was all it took. Silence was all it mattered. There was nothing left in his eyes. Nothing but fear. Fear. He feared me. He feared me. After what he’d made me. He feared me. Madness. I kept descending. Further. Further. How much further did I need to go? How deeper would I need to tread? How could I satiate his boundless amusement? I had walked through fire. Bled my own blood. All for him. And still his silence filled every room. Every corner. My face felt like melting. A scorching, watery heat trickled down my lips. Salt in my mouth. I wondered if I looked like a mess to him. Of course. I always had. My tears are just amusement. Beautiful to you, isn’t it? Watching me wet my sleeves. Hold my breath. In that utter silence you loved so much. Seconds kept crawling. Everything turned static. Pain numbed. But my chest won’t stop hurting. Why? Why? Why won’t it end? Why..? No answer. No comfort. Just the harsh truth - I was weak. I was vulnerable. I glanced back at him. A final glance to my cherished life. His face distorted. Like a hazy reminiscence. Though still there. Still on the seat. Sat. Tied. Tape on his mouth. He didn’t feel like someone I knew. Not anymore. I hauled myself up. Reached for the knife beneath my shirt. I thought of the tattoo. The needle. The ceiling I had stared at while I bled for him the first time. It didn't hurt as much as I expected, I had told him after. He hadn't responded. I let the blade graze my skin. Barely a whisper of pain. A thin crimson line. Beautiful. So maybe, I thought. So maybe the chest won't be so different. I dragged myself across the room. Slowly approaching the tied-up man. Looked at him. The way I used to when we called it hope. His eyes, brimmed with tears. His face, filled with dread. Fear… But you won’t have to fear me anymore . "I'll put you out," I murmured. "End both our suffering." A soft caress of his cheek as I wiped his teardrops. His eyes widened as I slowly raised my hands. The look of freedom. Perhaps I was the one chaining you down. Then. Quickly. I plunged the knife down. Oh… That hurt.. more than I expected. But I had made my peace with hurting for him a long time ago. now, for the rest below, it will be about venting. if that makes you uncomfortable, you can skip it! for the story, it was supposed to reflect and recapture a portion of my feelings that day, im sorry if that was too heavy for you to read. we all know life doesn't treat you very kindly, much less the very people living it. but going thru a bad break-up doesn't justify the cause to walk away everything. ive been there, impulses were strong. but, it struck me - what will i achieve out of this? what will it signify? to have never gotten over them? to have never moved on? that just proves that i was feeble-minded individual, clinging to what could never have been. will it ever mean anything to them? nothing. you walked away because it hurts, but then, you chose to harm yourself in the most damning way possible. what was the point of walking away then..? that will just mean that they won. i lost. i let them have the victory because i couldnt overcome. and the easy way out like this only passed the pain to another, not soothing it. our energy is infectious, the same way a laughter could affect a whole room, a cry could echo a whole class. the pain wouldnt subside, it will just transfer to another, and you make your own pain, something that only you could understand and get over, to another person, who will never understand why it hurts. so, stay strong! i didnt get over it on my own, and you shouldnt too. i know you are strong, resilient, thats why you have reached this far, so, let others help you too! some part in life cant be achieved with a single individual effort. oh boy, i probably ranted more than i should have.. all in all, i just want to say that if youre feeling overwhelmed, dont do it alone. thats all coming from me! |