PROMISES » #MeToo ✔️

a glimpse into the past // pt. 5

When Micah and I hang up, I plug my phone in on my desk and leave it there. I need space.

            And since I know I won't be sleeping, I suppose I should be getting back to that article.

            I grudgingly haul my laptop over to my bed where I settle into my nook of blankets and pillows. Time to finish this.

            When the document loads and I see the sentence I left off on, tears well in my eyes. I forgot I had made it to this part.

            I started self-harming that year.

            I had no idea what to do anymore. I had tried getting rid of him. I blocked him on everything I knew I could. I never spoke of the rumors. I always brushed them off because...what else was I supposed to do? They were lies, nothing but lies. Lies that Mike was spreading to get back at me, guilt me back into a relationship with him.

            But I knew better. God, at least I knew better. I was never going back to him, no matter what he did. I was not putting myself through that again, even if it felt like it hadn't even ended yet.

            I remember random people asking me about Mike. They would ask if we were still dating. I would deny, deny, deny. They would tell me Mike was telling people we were still a couple. I ignored them.

            Ignoring. That was all I knew how to do.

            And apparently all I still know how to do. My phone is buzzing off the hook right now, and I really debate answering whoever it is, but I can't be bothered right now.

            I became so silent in those years. I didn't speak because if I did, then someone had some way to tie Mike into every conversation. I didn't like hearing his name all the time. So I stopped talking so much to try and alleviate that.

            And at home, God, at home. It was horrible. I can remember being sick to my stomach one night, all because I was thinking of Mike and the way his stare burned into my skull every day. I was almost at my parent's bedroom door. I was going to tell them everything, the whole story from start to finish. All of it, every detail.

But I backed down. I went back to my room. I cried myself to sleep.       

Because I didn't know what to do. If I told my parents, they would want to go to the police. Or the principal. And that...that was too much hassle. People at school didn't believe me as is. They thought Mike and I were cute together. They thought everything was fine.

Everyone always thought everything was fine. But it was never, ever fine. It was far from fine.

Mike had a knack for painting flawless pictures to make everyone believe everything was smooth and perfect. He was a clever, deceiving little boy.

I sigh heavily. He was a clever little shit, I'll give him that. But I still hate him.

He disappeared after that year. I had no earthly idea where he went. It was as if he literally fell off the face of the planet.

Naturally, I didn't mind. He was out of my life. I could breathe, sometimes, because of course everyone assumed I knew where Mike went. I never did. But they still asked me about him.

The entire situation changed me in ways I wish it never had.

When I was twelve, so the summer after sixth grade, I went to a friend's wedding. We were hanging around outside the ceremony and everything. The dance floor and bar were open.