can you fix the broken? (bxb)

fight

Dalton's p.o.v.

Okay i may have some problems, I'll admit it. But Skylar makes my world brighter. He's always there for me. So when he wakes up from an obviously awful nightmare, and doesn't tell me what it's really about, it kinda hurts. It feels like he doesn't trust me and that may be over dramatic, but i can't help but feel like that. He makes me better, so i trust him with everything, but if he doesn't trust me, does that mean I'm just bringing him down? Probably.

"Babe, are you okay?" Skylar whispers in the dark. We have been lying in bed for a while now just enjoying each other's company.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie. If he does it, why can't I?

"You're lying." I look in his direction in the dark.

"No I'm not. Im really fine," I say in my most serious voice. He sighs and grabs my hand under the blanket.

"I don't like when you lie to me," he whispers so quietly i barely hear him.

"Yeah me neither," I mumble back. He looks at me with furrowed eyebrows and a confused look in his eyes.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing... I'm sorry i said it."

"Dalton, tell me what you mean by that," he demands and sits up as he lets go of my hand. I sit up too and stare into his eyes with no emotion besides a little hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?" I whimper out quietly. Just the thought of him not trusting me makes me want to cry.

"Dalton, what are you talking about?" He's raising his voice a little and i can tell he's getting frustrated. Suddenly, I feel horrible for even bringing it up. He probably has a reason for not trusting me and whatever it is, he obviously doesn't want to talk about it.

"it's really nothing Skylar. I'm just over thinking something you said earlier, but now i realize I'm just being stupid," I smile and act like it's nothing. But he obviously doesn't believe me and instead of pushing it he sighs and looks at me with disappointment. My smile falters a little but i keep it up. He suddenly throws the blankets off of himself and stands up, pulling a top on and fixing his pajama bottoms. He then walked out of my room without a word and i listen as he walks down the stairs and pulls the front door shut. By now, my smile is completely gone and tears are picking my eyes.

He left me, without a word.

He hates me now, all because im a stupid, selfish asshole. Why can't I even keep one person around? Why do i have to drive everyone away? Am i annoying, ugly, disgusting, stupid? Well, of course I am, I already knew that. But why can't i be normal and have friends? Why do i always fuck everything up?

I almost forgot; a perfect remedy for my sick mind.

I get out of bed as quickly as Skylar did and walk out the door left open by my... ex? And into the bathroom where i know I'll be fixed again. It's like a tiny tool shed where I can go whenever i need to put myself back together, but all my tools are metal and i know I'm only stitching a tiny bit of the whole problem.

I reach under one if the drawers and untape the box cutter blade i hid. I knew i would need it after Skylar and my mom threw away all of the others after... my accident.

Hell, Im just a big fucking accident.

I need this so bad. I've been clean for weeks and i can't go a day without thinking of it. I bring the blade up to my almost healed wrist and lightly run it across the skin, just getting used to the feeling again. My entire body tingles in anticipation. I pull back and look one last time at my patience and involuntary cleanliness. All i see is red as my depression takes over my entire mind and I slice repetitively up and down my pale arms.

Shit, this feels so fucking good.

My body is still shaking and shivering and i stop suddenly and look at what I've done. My arm has gashes in it with blood beading and spilling into the other cuts. I breathe evenly as i calm down and i can see clearly again. I stand and put the blade back after washing it gently. Then i walk over and grab a box of gauze from under the cabinet and wrap my arm until I stop seeing blood bleeding through the white and i tape it down. I can feel the blood making the gauze stick to my skin and i know it'll be a pain to take off tomorrow. good.

I walk back to my room and lay down on Skylar's side of the bed and breathe in the pillow, trying to remember when he was here and didn't hate me.

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Skylars p.o.v.

I walked out, even though i knew i shouldn't have. Dalton probably hates me now. He probably thinks I hate him, which i don't. I actually just really hate myself. I know he knows i lied to him about the nightmare but I just couldn't tell him what had happened to me. He couldn't handle it and, well, neither could I.

Damn, i fucked up.

I left trying to think of a way to tell him the truth, but i still can't. I really want to hurt myself for being so stupid but i know i can't, it wouldn't be fair to Dalton who's been trying so hard to stop. Plus, I'm trying to leave that part of me behind. No one understands, especially not my new family.

You see, people say there's no real reason to self harm, but i disagree. I think peoples own reasons are justifiable to themselves, and no one else, meaning that if you've been through it, you'd understand. I guess people that don't or haven't self harmed don't understand how easily someone can break. They think that nothing can make your life so miserable that hurting yourself makes it better. It's like finally other people aren't causing you pain, but rather yourself. You're in control.

But other people see it as doing more damage because there's already so much pain, and that doesn't make sense to them. It just doesn't make sense, because why would someone purposefully make something worse for themselves? Well i can't properly answer that question because i don't know myself. Words aren't meant to describe feelings.

But maybe it's not the thought of someone making it worse that people don't understand, maybe people don't understand why they don't just end it. Because if everything breaks you down, why on earth would you stay on earth and continuously take shit. Maybe people don't want someone to hurt, but to be better. And maybe they're dealing with a lot of shit themselves and they want to die, so they don't understand why someone would want to stay.

Everyone secretly wants a way out.