Glancing down at my lap, I say, “I’m not doing okay.” I heave out another sigh before chuckling. “God, that felt good to say. I’m trying to… figure out a way to navigate all of this with Blake being back, but I’m failing fucking miserably.”
Caleb clamps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re doing the best you can, Theo. I don’t know exactly what happened, but you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”
“I don’t think you’re ready for that story, my friend,” I reply humorlessly.
“Maybe it’s time to start letting it go, hmm? You can’t keep living your life this way. And anyway, what’s that saying? A problem shared is a problem halved?”
How can I admit something out loud that I can’t even tell my therapist about? To see the look of pity on someone’s face as I recount the night that nearly killed me? I glance up at Caleb, and I see nothing but pride and love shining from his eyes.
I straighten. If he has confidence in me, then I should have confidence in myself. He won’t let me fall. I know he won’t.
“Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I grumble, my heart pounding and my breathing coming out a little faster.
I manage to pull myself up, my knees shaking as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, spitting out the excess bile. I stumble to my car, thoughts invading my mind—my mother's fists as she rained them down on me because she couldn’t cope. My stepdad's breath on the back of my neck as he thrust himself into me over and over again, his hand clamped over my mouth to stop my screams of agony.
How I managed to get myself back to my apartment is still a mystery.
Shoving the door open, I race to the bathroom, expelling nothing but bile into the toilet. The flashbacks keep getting worse and more intense. This time, it's not my mother or my stepfather abusing me, it's Blake. She’s looking at me with eyes that sparkle as she gets railed. Eyes that scream, ‘I’m loving what he’s doing to me. You could never make me feel this way.’
I scrub at my face, hitting myself over and over again, but nothing works. The pain in my chest sits heavy, like the weight of a thousand people is sitting on it. My head throbs, the pressure blinding behind my eyes as I walk to the sink. The tears fall freely, but I don’t bother wiping them away. What’s the point? No one is going to save me. They never do. No matter how many times I’ve screamed, “help me!” internally or externally, it’s always fallen on deaf ears—no one ever comes.
The razor on the shelf stares at me. This isn’t the first time I’ve hurt myself, but I thought I’d gotten a handle on it. Thought I was doing much better. But in this moment, all I need is something to stop the pain that’s suffocating me. I pick it up, the sharp edge glinting in the light, taunting me and telling me to do it. So I do. I succumb to the voices shouting in my head that tell me I’m a piece of shit, and that I’m not good enough. No matter how hard I try or how quiet I am or how much I want to be a good boy and please people, it will never be enough.
I scream, my head thrown back and my vocal cords stretching from the guttural cry that leaves me. I clutch my hair, pulling on the strands, but even the pain from that doesn’t touch me. I need something more. Ihaveto have something more.
Clasping the belt buckle in my hand, I remove it, then unzip my pants and push them down my legs before running a hand under my nose. Sitting on the floor, I pull the skin taut like I always do and glide the blade across my leg. But it doesn’t do anything. The resulting sting feels like it's miles away, like it never happened. So I try again, this timedeeper and harder. But the results are still unsatisfying. Still not getting me where I need them to be.
I need to stop feeling. I need to stop thinking. I just need it all tostop.
Anger sits heavily on my chest that I can’t even get this right. That I can’t getanythingright. I slice harder again, shredding my leg in minor cuts, but it still doesn’t work. The voices are a cacophony of every person in my life, each one shouting louder than the last to be heard.
Something within me breaks, shattering me into a million pieces as I plunge the knife into my leg. I scream out, and the pain brings me back to my senses. I open my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them, only to see blood spurting out violently. I watch, mesmerized at the sight, unable to tear my gaze away. Not moving, just breathing slowly. Knowing what this means, I don’t even bother to cover my leg, and for a moment, I feel okay with that. I feel at peace knowing she can’t hurt me anymore. That none of them can. A smile forms on my lips as my vision starts going blurry.
Everything is going to be okay now, I think to myself as I succumb to the darkness.
A hand on my arm brings me back to the land of the living. I choke on a sob as I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tears that have fallen. “And there you have it,” I say, laughing derisively, “the ticket to my downfall.”
Not being able to bear the look on Caleb’s face, I keep my eyes firmly on the TV in front of me, sniffling.
“Theo,” I hear choked out on a sob.
My head swings to Caleb, and he makes me lose it all over again. He opens his arms, and I fling myself into them, hugging him with all the strength I have. Caleb matches me, holding me tight while he sobs. My tears stain his T-shirt, but I think both of us are too far gone to care. I cry for what feels like hours while Caleb clings to me, strokingmy hair. I’d feel uncomfortable if it wasn’t so cathartic, like a weight being lifted.
“Is everything okay in here?” a voice says, making me jump.
Drawing back from Caleb, I glance up to see Lauren standing by the door, her face a mask of concern.
“All good, little one,” I reply, a slight quirk to my lips that I don’t quite feel. “Just having a breakdown.”
She nods before walking toward us and pulling back the sheet just enough to get herself in. Instead of curling up with Caleb, though, she curls up with me, tangling her limbs around mine like a koala.
“I’ve got you,” she says gently, and it just sets me off all over again.
I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard or so much. The whimper that leaves me at Lauren and Caleb’s kindness should make me feel like less of a man; it should make me feel like I’m an embarrassment. But in all honesty, it brings me a warmth I’d never thought I’d feel again after Blake.
They’re still here. They haven’t left me.
Finally, I pull myself out of Caleb’s arms, and Lauren slides down my back to sit beside me. I swipe a hand down my face, desperately wishing for a tissue. As if reading my thoughts, a box gets pushed under my nose, and I huff out a laugh.
