Thin Skinned [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 24

Cuts P.O.V

I still feel terrible about breaking my streak. It was the longest one I've ever had. It's not easy to move on from that.

Horn helps reassure me that everything will be fine, but I still have my own small doubts. I'm not a very optimistic person. I have never been and I probably never will be. It's just not in my nature.

Horn is currently at work. He really likes his new job. I'm happy as long as he is. He should be able to enjoy where he works. I never liked any job I had. Everything was always too stressful.

Luckily, if all goes according to plan, I won't have to be around people very often. This might even be a good way for me to open myself up.

I write down some ideas before I forget them. I'm always having new ideas. The fact that I'm almost always in the apartment could attribute to that. I get bored and my mind wanders. It gives me interesting ideas.

A girl trying to explain to her family that she's in love with her best friend, who happens to be female, and is kicked out. A boy being beaten at school for walking to class with his boyfriend, who isn't beaten because he is the football team's star player. A young teen who is struggling with their own identity and admits it, but still isn't accepted by anyone. Needless to say, I like writing stories about LGBTQIAP+.

Authors are simply afraid to write about these topics. They don't want their readers to have a negative reaction. I, on the other hand, have been dealing with negativity my entire life. I can handle it.

The stories of struggle from LGBTQIAP+ members are truly unappreciated. I want to give those who were outspoken a voice. I myself am outspoken. I want to finally give myself a voice. Perhaps I will inspire others to find their voices as well.

I know that if I manage to get that far that I will receive a lot of hate. People are still very homophobic. It's rather unfortunate. Those people simply don't understand how it feels to be hated because of who you love. If they did then perhaps things would be different.

The bandages on my arm bother my skin. They always feel scratchy and rough. I hate that I have to use them so often. Sometimes, they irritate me so much that I pick at them until they come off. Then my wounds are exposed.

I try not to pick and scratch at my bandages. It only makes things worse. But just seeing them on my arms drives me crazy. It never feels good to have them on.

I end up rewrapping my arm while Horn is at work. He prefers to do it to try and make sure that I won't take them off, but I have far more experience when it comes to bandages. I've been fixing my own wounds for as long as I can remember.

Even when my wounds needed to be treated by a hospital, I refused to go. Doctors and hospitals are by far my biggest phobia. I just can't go anywhere near them without having a panic attack.

No one ever understood how much pain I was in. They would try to shove me into mental institutions to "solve" my problems. That never worked. It really only ever made my problems worse.

Horn is the only person who ever understood what kind of pain I was in. He's suffered too. People who have suffered through trauma tend to understand more. Horn and I are practically perfect for each other.

There are parts of our stories that even we don't discuss with each other. The memories are simply too dramatic. If they weren't then perhaps we would be more open about it.

I love Horn dearly, but even with him, I can't reveal every detail. It's just too painful. I never want to relive those awful experiences. Just thinking about them puts me on edge.

It takes a lot of self-control to keep from picking at my bandages. Just seeing them gives me the urge to. It isn't easy to stop myself.

Right now, I'm trying as hard as I can not to hurt myself. Injury and pregnancy don't mix, especially with my weak immune system.

I wrap myself in a blanket to try and prevent myself from picking at my wounds. Usually, when I restrain myself it isn't so bad. Although, it makes me feel like a prisoner in my own mindset.

I sigh softly as I wait for Horn to get home. Things get rather boring when I don't constantly distract myself. It feels like I always have to be doing something when I should be relaxing.

I wish things weren't this difficult. If I could just stop picking at will. If I didn't have dermatillomania my life would probably be a lot better. I wouldn't have as many scars or physical marks. Horn wouldn't have to worry about me hurting myself. If I could change that, I would.

Unfortunately, dermatillomania is just a part of who I am. There is no changing it. There is no making my skin thicker. I can't change those things. They made me who I am today. As much as I may wish things were different, I can't change anything about my medical conditions.

Horn loves me for who I am. He loves my imperfections even when I don't. I know that he wouldn't like the fact that I feel like I need to change. He loves me for me.

People say that you have to love yourself before you can love somebody else, but that isn't true. I love Horn. I'm not sure that I've ever loved myself. I've only ever seen my imperfections. I could never bring myself to love them, even when they make me who I am. They caused me so much pain and I just never allowed myself to love, or even like myself. I know that I should so I can be happy, but I just don't. As long as I have Horn I am completely happy.