You know you can tell me anything, right?
God damn her.
Bel's sweet, too kind code forI know you're lying to me.
I have no idea what time it is in Vegas, but if she's texting me, it must be in the afternoon or later. Those weirdos exist in an almost exclusively nocturnal schedule.
I guess I shouldn't judge; I don't even know if it's light outside or dark here. Everything exists in a timeless, colorless blur these days.
The first bit of color I've even been aware of in weeks was the unfortunate scarlet seeping into my sheets this morning.
It didn't even occur to me that I'd missed my appointment to re-up on my birth control. That would have been... three? Four weeks ago? Who knows? Who cares? I'm not going to be needing it any time soon. The more pressing issue is the lack of period products in this hell. Even that hardly registers in this relentless fog of apathy. If I bleed through everything, what does it matter?
My only bright spots are the hour of violence in the morning and the two hours of escapism at night. Everything in between... I'm basically a ghost just floating through my days, each one a repeat of the one before.
Like some stupid time warp movie, I'm stuck living the same day over and over again.
I have no idea if Eamon came home last night or decided to stay wherever the fuck he went.
Check in with Kyle, my fucking ass.
As much as I want to, I can't tell Bel everything.
Can't even admit half of it to myself.
I'm spiraling, and the one fucking person I could use as an anchor left me stranded here alone to go do god knows what.
And honestly, I don't even fucking care if he wanted to go sleep with someone. I don't.
But how dare he bring me out here to what is little more than a prison and then get to just leave whenever he wants. Doesn't he know what solitary confinement does to people?
I haven't seen the sky in two months.
Haven't heard a fucking bird chirp or been honked at by some dickhead in a truck that's too lifted for him to see anything.
I miss everything. The smells, the sounds. I just miss being a part of life.
I didn't get up and go train this morning, and I'm sure I'll get an earful about it later, but for now, I don't give a shit.
I canceled all my meetings and obligations. There's no point in doing anything anyway. I'm going to be trapped in this concrete coffin until I finally expire.
Once again, vile thoughts inject themselves into my mind.
There's no point to anything.
Is this really a life worth living?
You'd be better off in the peaceful nothingness of death than suffering here any longer.
I'm no stranger to these kinds of thoughts. They've plagued me since I first realized that not everyone thought about both boys and girls like I did.
Since everyone around me told me over and over that it was an affliction. My cross to bear, but not something that should ever be accepted or given in to.
Laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I wonder if I had followed their advice, would I be any happier? Could this fate have been avoided somehow had I just followed their guidance?
Eamon's stupid voice lends itself to my thoughts.
Are you wallowing again?
