So far I’ve posted story’s of love and death. Here’s just one more about love.
So for the longest time I was in love with this boy, if you’ve seen my other stories this is before Zach, but his name was Noah.
I know for sure, he won’t be reading this, or at least know who I am so it’s safe to use his name. But anyway on topic, Noah was what every girl wanted he was cute, taller than me, a good kisser, popular, athletic, captain of the football team, a slight accent, and a total gentlemen. He was just amazing. I fell for him, hard.
And pretty soon, he said he loved me to. We finally got together. It was perfect for the first few months, we went on dates, talked all the time, and he held me close in front of his friends like he was proud to be with me. It was perfect, so I thought.
It wasn’t until 5 or 6 months after dating did he start to change, he got more possessive, commanding, he didn’t want me to say no. He wanted what ever, and he wanted it then.
But 7 months, 7 months. That was the first time he hit me. Just small slap on the face for asking if he was mad at me. It only progressed from there. He would hit me a bit more often, sometimes it was his friends, sometimes it was hard, other times it wasn’t bad.
I finally got the courage to dump him. One last hit. That’s all I thought it would be. It was so much more than that. It was a punch to face, enough power to throw me against a wall. He just walked away like nothing happened.
I never told anyone. Never. I was done with it. I went home that and starting thinking.
What if nothing gets better? What if this happens again? What if it’s worse next time? What if I end it all right here? Would it be better or worse? What would be next, heaven? Hell? Trapped in between? It didn’t matter. I picked up my blade.
A blade. The blade that kept me through all of this. The blade that went to the beat of the music. There for me anytime I wanted.
I was done.
But I’m still here now. So what happened? So much did. But, I couldn’t tell you one thing if I tried. I blacked out.
I woke up in the white hospital rooms, obviously i was super confused as to what happened.
So small thing I should explain, I cut, deep, then I thought I wanted to see the flowers outside, so I went. I wanted the pretty little flowers to be the last thing I saw.
And I collasped out there, i assume. Someone, just an innocent person, had to find my close to dead body. Someone who didn’t need to see that.
It wasn’t until I was checked on was I allowed to see him. It took a few days before they let him in. He would sit by the glass and watch me, but I never knew. I never knew he saw me, I never knew that he was the one. They told me I lost a bit of memory, so I assumed he was in that memory.
The day, the day I met him. I’ll never forget.
He looked shocked to see me when they let him in. Like he saw a ghost, I can’t blame him. Last time he saw me I was dying.
But, I will always feel bad about that day. He saved me, but I couldn’t save him.
But there’s someone else now. He reminds me sooo much of him. I actually call him my brother, his name’s Collin. He acts similar to. It actually funny how similar they are. But it sucks that they’re similar. Because Collin reminds of quite a few of my loss Friends. Zach.. Phoenix… Jake… and this one. I don’t want to mention his name because he used to be a part of this. Honestly, I feel bad, but sometimes there’s days I can’t be around Collin because he remind me so much of the one I couldn’t save. Well this is turning into more of a rant and dragged on story. I guess I’ll end it here. Maybe I’ll talk about Collin sometime…