You think it would start here. I look down at my clock that reads 3:00 AM and blink a few times, trying to clear my blurred vision from the tears that began streaming down my face a few moments before. A tear runs down my cheek onto my light blue shorts and I feel two more run down my face.
It is freezing cold outside. The side window starts fogging up, but the bright lights from the city of Los Angeles are clearly visible through the haze. The lights shine like a million small fireflies, lost in the world.
I realized how tense I am gripping the steering wheel at 10 and 2, the location I learned where to place my hands when I went through drivers ED.
I loosen my grip, than bring my attention down to my wrists. There I see some of the new cuts that I did when I locked myself in the bathroom at the party. I've always been depressed, but I never thought that I would end up like this. I never thought that hurting myself would be the answer, and I still don't think that.
I remember the moment that the blade touched my skin, all my pain lifted off my shoulders. I was just focused on doing more, gradually taking more and more pain away. I didn't feel guilt the first time I tried it, but know I'm bearing the weight and it's more than I can carry. It's become and addiction, kind of like him.
I remember walking out and seeing him standing there with welcoming arms waiting for me, as if he had done no harm. That's when I turned around and ran out the back door, the feeling of his eyes watching me, burning a hole through me.
Now I am driving in my car to no set destination. Just thinking about how bad I messed up. The radio is blasting 'Let Me Love You' by Mario. I roll my windows down and absorb every word that is sung while I sing along, way out of tune.
When my phone vibrates I hesitate for a few moments before looking down and unlocking a text message that reads, "Hey babe! Where are you? This party is great, but isn't near as fun being without you." I feel guilt, and misery, and pain as I drive further and further away, running from all of my problems. Wishing they could disappear...I could disappear.
Tears began to start welling up again in my eyes. I reach to my right and turn the music up extremely loud, feeling the bass pump through my chest, hoping that I can get lost in the music.
You think it would start here when I hear a honk and look up to see blaring headlights coming towards me. When the last thing on my mind is him, them, it, and the last thing I remember before everything goes dark is him saying, "It's our little secret, I promise," but it doesn't start here.
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