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Play - Unsteady by X Ambassadors

Aren’t we all addicts?

The music is loud here, but my thoughts are louder.

I did it again yesterday. The blade, the fresh scars… the tears mixing up with blood. The fake smiles to make sure Milo doesn't know how weak of a sister I am.

Apparently the truth isn’t enough to soften the pain.

Sometimes I wonder if grief fucked me up to the point of no return. Is it how it works? Grieving things that never even happened, grieving yourself because you feel it deep in your soul that nothing will ever heal you. Not even love.

I always had this irrational thought in my head, if someone loves you enough, the love will replace the sadness inside your heart. But it doesn't work like that. It works differently.

When you feel an immense hole inside your soul, the only thing that could help is to make it bigger, until nothing is left.

But I wish I could. I wish I could heal it with feelings. With something stronger than any loneliness. With the soft eyes of a man who lied to me. With his gentle hands healing my wounds. With Damien.

I crave love the way roots need soil even when it’s poisoned, yet I flinch every time someone offers it. And he…he gave it to me so many times, but I kept burying it deeper in dead ground. Falling for someone means being ready to stay away for their own good.

In the meantime, I can allow myself to miss him at least.

I know what addiction and exhaustion look like when you’re trying to protect someone at the same time. You’re fighting for both of you, begging them to love you enough to make you stop. I’ve been both. The one begging, and the one who failed.

He can’t fail, it will ruin him to fail me like it ruined me to fail my mother.

Please don’t let go of me because I’m too sad to fight for us.

I’m outside again, cigarette burning down too fast, vodka going warm in my hand. I exhale and watch the smoke leave and disappear in the sky.

I think I’m too far gone to fix gently. Too tired to pretend it’s still something I can heal into. I don’t want Damien to fall out with me, so I start pulling away before he can. I always do that. I just learned how to leave before people decide to. I tried it once with Hayzel when we were younger. I pushed, she stayed.

That was different. That was safe.

He’s not safe in the same way. His existence is a threat to everything I tried to keep up all my life.

Gosh I’m high…

The drugs are starting to blur everything at the edges. Grief comes in with it, and missing him, and everything I never put in order. Nothing lines up anymore, not my thoughts, not my reasons, not my hands. Why is everything so okay when I’m just sitting there overwhelmed?

I take another drag and let it fill the space with the smoke where my words should’ve been.

“Look at you, relapsing again, Vitelli? I thought you stopped,” Ethan says as he looks at me with a smirk on his face.

“Aren't we all addicted to anything that fills the void? Yours is just different, Bennett,” I reply, focusing on the stars.

“Yours is worse,” he adds, sitting next to me. “You’re still too fucked in the head, Mireya.” He steals the cigarette from my hand and takes a long drag. “That’s why we stopped talking for years, you realize that, right?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ethan.”

You have no idea what made me this way…

He laughs before giving me the cigarette back and shaking his head, “trust me I know.” His eyes meet mine again. “What is going on with Mister Caldwell? He was angry last time I fucked with you,” he asks.

“Nothing,” I lied. “You were just acting dumb and he didn’t like it.”

“Then why are you all sad like this?”

Because I want to die but can’t…