Just Another No One

11/01/2929

I feel so impossibly small in front of them. Like I’m an ant, and they are this gigantic creature that smashes me over and over again. It doesn’t want me dead, so I never die, it wants me to deel the pain, and so I do. I feel the ezxcruciating horror of life being slowly drained out of me, my heart crushed a time after the other.

I feel so disastrously flawed in front of them. I can’t get anything right. I can’t even smile the right way. Either I’m too happy - my father hates it when I’m too hyped, he constanly tells me I’m annoying whenever something excites me - or too sad - mom says it depresses her to see me crying around the house-. I want them to tell me how they want me to feel. At least that way I’d be able to fake it.

I feel so numbly dumb in front of them. I can’t speak. I feel a rope tied around my neck, every word that comes out of my mouth tightens it. It’s like there is an ocean between us, and I can’t remember how to swim. It’s maddening; I know how to swim, why is it then that this ocean seems imposible to break through? They are on the other side of it, all I need to do is reach out. Maybe if I just screamed from the other side of the shore, they’ll come to me. I wouldn’t have to go to them. But they are too far away, and every second that passes by ads a drop between us.

Just promise you’ll catch me.

Promise you’ll do before I hit the truth.

Me: Why?

Mom: It’s kind of manly.

Me: It’s just a flannel.

Mom: *judgedamental silence*

He was looking at me. He was 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 looking. It was all he had done since I came to Stardust Falls. Elijah just looked, joked, smirked, and walked away. And he stuck to that since day one, when he was just "the stranger" who had accidentally walked into my bedroom, and later, when I was introduced into his family as his brother's girlfriend. Which means it shouldn't do anything to me. 𝘏𝘦 shouldn't do anything to me.

I didn't want him to know me - hell, I didn't even know myself- but I sure wanted to know him. And, the first time we met, I thought I did. I had boxed him into a good guy box, nice guy box, correct guy box. The type that wears glasses, reads and meditates. But I had never been so incredibly wrong about someone. Elijah might've had the perfect facade, might've looked like the perfect guy, might've even made my parents like him, with his curly chocolate hair and the dimples that crowned his smile. But I knew he was the worse of the worse. He fooled his family, he fooled his friends, he fooled the world, but he couldn't fool a fooler, he couldn't fool 𝘮𝘦.

So he looked at me, and I looked back at him, with his brother's arm around my waist and we both knew that when he joked, smirked, and walked away, I'd later follow. I'd later meet him in a silent place, I'd allow myself to melt into him, to devour and delight myself with the flavor of his lips.

Because the way we look is just a mirage, and the way we are, can be hidden deep inside.

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