A Day With No Ending

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When your favorite person in the entire world tells you that your sadness in itself is selfish, that's when you know you've hit your lowest low. It's not that I wanted to be like this. I didn't ask for Jem to kill himself. I don't purposely blame myself because it's fun. I don't insinuate panic attacks on myself in the middle of crowds for kicks. This isn't something I enjoy. If I could just "suck it up," I would. But I can't. And Jack blaming me for it is not fucking helping.

I understand it's inconvenient for me to feel this way. I understand that everyone feels awkward around me because my scars are visible or because they know what I'm thinking. Or that they're careful of saying the wrong thing. Does he think I can't feel their pity? Does he think I like feeling this way? If I could trade how I feel for literally anything else, I would. 

Being told that I was basically asking for it, when I don't enjoy this is fucking rude, and to be honest, I'm not sure I even like Jack anymore. At least Alex was sympathetic with me. Jack is just a dick. It was a mistake coming here.

I pick myself off the ground, and go to pack up. If that's what Jack thinks, then fine. I'm not saying here anymore. I didn't unpack much in the first place, so it was easy to pick up. As I was stuffing things in my case, and putting things away, I couldn't stop my nose from running, and it was pissing me off that I was crying because of that douche canoe. I kept sniffling as I was getting packed up, and was unable to control it, and I was about to rip off my nose in annoyance.

"Where are you going?" A voice asked from the doorway. My years of binge-listening to All Time Low has brought me to realize that voice is Alex's. I don't turn around.

"Away," I tell him, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Why?"

"Because Jack thinks I'm inconsiderate and selfish for feeling like a hopeless mess. He thinks I want this to happen and I should just grow up."

"He said that to you?"

I nodded instead of answering. I threw the last of my things in my suitcase and flopped forward on the bed. 

"Fuck what Jack thinks." I heard him step closer. "Just hang out with me and Zack."

"Alex, I care what he thinks. Despite me learning what an actual asshole he is, I still care what he thinks. I can't let years of pining over him just slip away because he hates me. He's still the dorky guy I fell in love with on YouTube. It's just me he doesn't like, so if that's true, then I'll go."

"I don't want you to go," he whispered. His voice was feint, and I could barely hear him even though we were close to each other. I brought my face up from the comforter to look at him.

"Why not?"

"Because I like having you around."

"I'm an absolute wreck!" I stood up and started walking toward him, and took a couple steps back. "I make everyone feel bad for wanting to go out and have a good time, I can't even come with because I'll freak out, and what's even worse is I can feel people staring at my scars! It's not something I can stop right now, and I would appreciate it if they would stop wishing it at me with their stares. I don't need their pity."

"But you do need help," he said, looking at me. I watched his feet hesitate to step forward. "You may be all those things, but it doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"Now why would you care about me?"

"I care about all my fans."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"Fine, I don't think of you like a fan, you're a friend, and I want to help."

"You can't fix me,  Alex."

"You can't fix what doesn't want to be fixed," another voice spoke up. Without having to look, I knew it was Jack. 

"You stay the fuck out of this," Alex growled, turning around to face him. "You're the reason she's upset in the first place."

"Good," Jack scoffed. "She doesn't want to be helped, Alex, that's why she's doing this. She's leaving to make a scene, she wants to be the center of attention."

"Fuck you, Jack, you think I like this?" I was starting to raise my voice at this point, but I didn't care. I was cracking with emotion. "You think this is fun for me? Watching everyone around me walk on eggshells because they don't want to upset me? Or not telling people how I feel for fear of them seeing me as weak? Or not feeling validated enough to have feelings or to even talk about them? Do you think I like freaking out when I'm in a crowd, or feeling so sad I can't get out of bed? Newsflash, dickwad, having a mental illness isn't fun, nor is it something I can control. I don't like it, and I would get rid of it in a heartbeat if I could. You've dealt with bullies before, try dealing with them when they're in your own head."

"Whatever," he sighed, turning around. He walked away, and my gaze fell back to Alex. Those soft puppy eyes that I've learned to stare in from a screen were right in front of me, and it was just now I was beginning to realize how much emotion he held in them. 

"Please stay," Alex begged.

"And do what," I demanded, crossing my arms. 

"I don't think Jack's happy, Lizzy. He may be saying all those things because that's what he says to himself. I know him better than anyone, and I can tell something's different. He's usually so kind and careful, and he's being a total dick. I think something's wrong."

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"You'd be the most likely to help since you're dealing with the same thing."

"Alex, you know what anxiety is like, why can't you talk to him?"

"It's different. Something happened, and he won't tell me what, so better you than someone else. I trust you."

"You just met me!"

"And yet I know you want to help. Please, Liz, for me?"

"You can't pull that shit just because I love your band."

"We're on break for a while, you have time. You can stay here for a while. You don't have to go back, right?"

I groaned really loudly the fell back on the bed. "Alex, he hates me."

"He'll get over it."

"Alex, he doesn't want to talk to me."

"I can fix that."

"Alex, he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"He doesn't have to. Please."

I groaned, louder this time, but agreed to help as reluctantly as I could. Alex cheered and patted me on the head before leaving the room. This was going to be hellish. 

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 15, 2016 ⏰

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