Chapter Fourteen

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Somebody told me and I think they're right
There is a change on its way tonight
And I feel it's so
But I fear it though

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TW // descriptive mention of self harm

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There weren't many things I found comfort in.

I rarely allowed myself to be vulnerable enough, comfortable enough with someone or something in order to form an attachment. But when I did, it was fierce. Intense, like a fire blazing through a forest with no sanctuary in sight.

After dad died, although I was young, I still found it next to impossible to even want to allow anyone to infiltrate my life. My walls were up, I was guarded. I was afraid that anyone I let in would leave me like he did, like my mom did.

Inevitably, some people and things managed to chip away at my barrier, and I let them in anyways.

I could count on one hand everyone and everything I was attached to.

The first being Louis. Louis was my light when all I could see was dark. He was the first person I met when I arrived at the home. He and I immediately clicked, our bond was inevitable and only grew stronger as each day went by. He was the first person I felt comfortable enough to talk to about anything. I cared so deeply for him, and I still do. I'll always find comfort in him, but I can't let myself be attached to him anymore. He doesn't deserve to support the weight of my neediness on his shoulders when he has his own problems to deal with. But no matter how many times I tell myself I can't be attached, I know deep down I am, and always will be.

The second being Dani. She was my distraction. Dani never failed to find a way to make me smile, or at least try to make me smile, when I needed it. Her and I never went into too much detail about me and my life like how I did with Louis, but Dani still somehow always knew what I needed. Like Lou, she deserves so much more than to carry the burden of trying to make me happy. I want better for her.

Third is Ryan. Ryan Serrano. Oh, how I could go on for an endless amount of time about Ryan Serrano. He and I had met my sophomore year. He was a junior, ridiculously attractive, and one of the most popular boys at school. And he chose me. I became so reliant on him for validation, for attention, for acceptance. He was my first taste of love. Or at least what I thought was love. I'm still not quite sure I know what love is yet, but he told me he loved me, so I believed him, and I loved him too. Although I didn't necessarily find comfort in him all the time, I was more than attached to him. Parting ways with him tore me apart like paper in a shredder, leaving me to tape myself back together the best way I could.

Although it may be deemed silly, the fourth thing I find comfort in is smoothies. They are one of the only other constants in my life. They are part of my daily routine, part of what has kept me structured and what has held me together for as long as it has. No matter what mood I may be in, having a smoothie, for the most part, keeps me grounded. Reminds me to do at least one thing during the day. Sometimes, making a smoothie is my only reasoning for getting out of bed on certain days. And when I was struggling with my relationship with food the most, smoothies were my safety net. I always felt like I could drink a smoothie if I couldn't eat anything solid. I couldn't help but form some kind of emotional dependency on them.

Lastly, I feel comfort in the euphoric feeling that flows through my veins each time I taint myself with the blade that pierces my skin. Each time I use a sharp edge to split open my body, each time I see blood rise up to the surface layer, spilling over the edge and dripping down my body, I'm reminded of what it feels like to be alive. It's an addictive feeling, one I constantly crave and chase after. I much prefer it over the mess in my head. Physical pain is so much easier to tend to then the pain that is a permanent resident in my brain. It's a temporary escape from the turmoil in my head that tethers me back to the real world, a feeling I know I'll never grow tired of.

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