Most days, I'm scared to close my eyes because I don't know what lies in the dark. I toss, turn and shift for hours, pleading with sleep to make my mind its home. But, the ever-evading phenomenon does what it enjoys best, it flits away once it's within my grasp.
Tired of this unending dance, I heft myself off my twin bed and direct my steps into the night, ready to go wherever it might take me. I sit in the shade provided by the leaning tree over the health centre and am kept company by my thoughts. The light from this woman's stand illuminates my lonely figure and I think of myself as that one character who is minutes away from unlocking their villain arc.
I sit silently as I listen to the noise around me and I am immersed in the story the two friends beside me are sharing. I hold onto my empty palm and bob my head in time to the orchestra unfolding itself from my ears into my mind. I refuse to give the thoughts seeking escape space as I continue with the orchestra and smile at intervals.
Suddenly, an image from 2 years ago flits into my mind, glitching as it skips over the whole event. I am alarmed as I stand up and make my way down the stairs in a hurry, wishing to escape the darned event that refuses to let itself go. Unlike other memories from before that time, it refuses to disappear. Coming at unexpected moments and leaving my body weakened by the pain, shame and disgust it brings with it.
Am I not a fool to be this affected by a little mistake?
Why does my mind still remember everything?
Why do I still know the date?
Why can't the feel of hot spunk clear itself off my skin?
Oh well, I go through this dance everyday, so, not a surprise.
I make my way to the darkest spot I can find to avoid my disgrace spilling into the light. I fear being illuminated because who knows who's watching? What if I unexpectedly let go and all the secrets come spilling? What if someone looks directly at me and gives me the one look I never want to be party to? No, I need to hide further in the dark.
But, this school isn't helping matters. Why is every corner illuminated? Why do I have to be blinded by light with every step I take? Why do I have to walk in the bright night before getting the repose lying ahead?
Within minutes, I leave the light behind and crawl into the one spot no one would notice me. The silence and darkness are welcoming, stretching their hands to me and embracing me with promises of safety and silence. A judgement-free zone. I should be happy now, but, I'm not. I got what I needed at that moment, but it isn't enough. I need more. I want more. I crave more. I should get more.
Self-destructive as I am, I let myself get lost in the images and noises, reliving events no one would pay to be privy to. I remind myself of how useless I am, how stupid I am to have let myself get lost in the feel of everything, how disgusting I must seem to everyone, how much of a liar, an impostor that I am, how less of a person I have become, how disgraceful most of what I do is. I find excuses for what happened and why I was unable to prevent all that happened. I go over what I might have done different, what else I could have done, what I should have done and I am left more disgusted at myself.
I hate me even more with every second that pass.
The voice I turn to on days I need a bit of comfort has turned its back on me, refusing to help me out of the funk I put myself in. The one person who would willingly tell me how much of an idiot I am is who I am left with. I listen to them yammer and jabber, tearing at me from the inside. My heart hurts, my chest constricts, my throat is sown tight by all the sobs I refuse to let out. I refuse to be as weak as I see myself behind my closed eyelids and begin to claw at my skin as I seek for more pain to rid myself of the pain that has refused to leave.
Within seconds, a smell assaults my senses. The coppery smell feels comforting and relief flows out of me the same way the tears would have. I focus more on the sting and smell as I wait for the ball in my chest to dissolve so I can breathe peacefully.
When I am done, I seek for things I can't have.
I want hands on me. Hands I trust. Hands I love. I feel unclean, dirty, trashed, garbage-like. I feel used, disgusted and everything. I can feel and smell evidence. Someone to kiss away the rubbish crawling under my skin. Touch me with the care of a lover. Maybe a shower could help. Maybe not. But, I want hugs, cuddles, kisses.
Or maybe I'll finally fall asleep.
Find a few moments of rest till something else takes over my mind.
Signed:
A🖤💜