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WITH MY PHONE on my hands and a blurry vision I make my way to the gold elevator. The alcohol on my system making it hard to keep my emotions at bay. With a loss of coordination and trouble at making decisions I press the button to the penthouse.
The first thing I see as the elevator doors opened is Javier's face. He comes near me with caution probably seeing my state. His steps hesitant and his eyes unsure.
"How you doing?" he asks looking down at my frame. His brown eyes bored into my blue and caramel ones.
I almost laugh at his question. Something that seems so simple for some but so hard for others. A simple harmless question, but that is so hard for me to answer.
How am I doing? I feel like I've been stabbed by my biological family. I've been lectured by a mysterious boy at a park. I don't know what got me here but it feels like everything is falling apart. And the worst part is that I can't control it, I can only watch as everything falls, feeling helpless. My chest hurts from betrayal, it's something I've felt so many times but still a foreign pain. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm on a emotional rack, pulling me in opposite direction until I'm begging for mercy. It hurts to breathe, to walk, to talk. My heart is broken to a point that I don't know if it'll ever heal.
But insted of saying that, I answer "I'm fine." Because after all that's how I am supposed to feel, right? I have no right to feel the way I do, I've done this to myself. I've put myself in here, my decisions led me to this exact moment. It's my own fault.
"Really, Rory? I know you are not. You may have fooled me once, but not anymore." he insisted with a stern look.
I've learned to keep my feelings to myself for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to express them. I avoid them like a plague until it's too much and it all explodes. It's not healthy, and I know, but it's the way I deal with them. It's a survival tactic. So hearing him say that he knows I'm not okay, makes me feel vulnerable. I feel exposed, like someone yanked all my clothes and left me with nothing to cover my skin. Some would say that vulnerability is good, but I hate it. It makes me feel weak, because as soon as we are vulnerable we are allowing someone to take advantage of that and we'll be wounded and damaged.
