Kiss and Tell

Kiss & Tell - [Part Fifty-one]

Kiss & Tell
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Kiss & Tell - [Part Fifty-one]

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I only love it when you touch me, not feel me

When I'm fucked up, that's the real me

The Hills - The Weeknd

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Caleb POV

I try not to think sometimes because that usually leads to me worrying. I don't like worrying because that also leads to me caring. When I do care, that only means that I have to something to stop that horrible feeling from staying in my chest. That almost always ends up with me having to call my dad to bail me out of jail or possibly, people will see giving shits. I wish there was a way for the former to solve my problems. Don't get me wrong, I really don't want to go to jail; it's just that jail would actually be way simpler than what's going on in my chest right now. I can take a punch, hell I can probably even take a gunshot, but I can't take feelings.

I don't know how to help people with them either.

When my mother died I was young, but old enough to understand what it meant to die. I was a good kid back then, maybe a little mischievous, but still good. My mother's death was actually my ultimate demise. After she was gone, a switch clicked inside me. I dealt with the feelings that were slowly plaguing my body with emotions that I never thought I would ever feel by turning it all off. It was easier that way, and as I grew older, that concept only broadened. Parties, alcohol, drugs, girls. That all came with it.

That's how I coped. That's why I will never be what my dad wants me to be, happy. He might have moved on, got remarried and bought an even bigger house than the one we had before, but I could never do the same. I could never just move on. Maybe that's why I'm the biggest fuckup that will ever live on planet Earth. Maybe that's why I had to always prove a point, even if it was just a stupid point. I have always reminded myself that I had everything, that I'm the one who controls everything. But even as I said it repeatedly in my mind, it felt like I had nothing, because what I thought I had was just an illusion of what I didn't have. When Austin fell off that roof, I finally understood.

I feel like I have nothing because I really do have nothing.

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Jasmine POV

I'm so sick of crying.

I tried swallowing the sobs that creep up towards my throat during the day, but sometimes they don't go down the way they are supposed to. They rush out in uncontrollable gasps and wheezes. It's humiliating and awkward when people are around. I've began running towards the nearest bathroom or empty space when I feel one edging closer to my mouth. I'm starting to wonder if it will always be like this. Will I always cry when I see a McDonald's or a Taco Bell? Or when someone mentions his name? Or whenever I picture his smile in my head?

Every single time I step into my room, an image of Austin lying on my bed forms inside my brain. Some days I sleep on the couch in the living room instead. It's difficult falling into a restful slumber when I could still smell Austin all over my sheets. I have washed these sheets once since Austin had been here, but I could still smell him. I'm going crazy, but I'd like to think that this is normal. It's better trying to explain that to mom than to the psychiatrist she recommended.

There's also those dreams that I've been having. They are distinct and varied. But they all end the same; Austin falling and blood covering my hands. Caleb is always there too. He's screaming at me and I'm weeping desperately. I have a feeling that a psychiatrist would tell me that Caleb screaming represents the anger in my life, or it could just be Caleb screaming at me, like he was that night and this is all just a constant memory.