Demi steps closer and cups my face firmly. "Blue, look at me."
I meet her gaze, but I'm in a tunnel.
She affirms, "You are not weak for struggling. You are not dramatic. And you are not a burden."
The last word hits the hardest. I feel like a burden...on everyone. And that's when it turns clear.
Loving me costs people too much.
Tears spill unexpectedly. I cry, "I don't want to hurt them."
"You're not hurting anyone," Demi insists.
"I don't want to hurt him either."
"You're not. Red loves you," she states.
I can't breathe right. The buzzing peaks, and I need it to die. There has to be quiet for me to have peace. The only thing that will do it is one sharp sensation that drowns out the emotional noise.
"I need something," I say again, more desperate this time.
Demi's eyes soften, but her jaw tightens. She carefully agrees, "Okay, then we find something safe."
Safe.
The word echoes. My chest rises and falls too fast.
She adds gently, "Or, you text him."
I stare at the muted phone.
Green.
And the longer I pretend I'm not green, the louder the destruction inside me starts to breathe.
Green. Green. Green!
The word sits in my throat, but I can't say it out loud.
Demi hugs me. "Hey. Everything is going to be okay."
I know it's not. I'm at the place where I either choose to take care of this, or I'm going to implode.
"Just text Red, Green," she suggests.
"I can't," I whisper.
She pulls back and pins her gaze on me. "Yes, you can. Green doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're choosing not to fight alone."
My chest tightens.
The buzzing turns unbearable. The subtleness turns loud and demanding, crawling under my skin like something alive. My brain keeps giving me the same solutions.
Kitchen drawer.
Bathroom cabinet.
Cosmetic bag.
