Verbal Chocolate Deprivation
Previous - this entry written on 2001-03-24 at 01:06 p.m. - Next


Bleed. She says "I have to fucking bleed" and I want to curl up, reading it... I want to find the words to explain why that's NOT how it is, but today... today I think I would be lying. Because sometimes it is. Sometimes there is no purpose, no pleasure, no reassurance... sometimes all there is to do is ache, and bleed, and wonder why the universe hid the bandages again.



It's odd... I've listed so many happy things. How about a few harsher memories today, oh loyal fans?



Incidentally, the next memories are NOT all about the same person. I just don't feel like using names... I don't want to make the memories any more real than they already are.



I remember how bad it hurt to kneel on a razor, my legs aching and that sharp pain in my knee where the steel was digging into my skin, plastic bending slowly, the entire thing slicing into me... and I didn't dare move, didn't dare rise, I knelt there in the shower with his hands in my hair, afraid to even try to breathe... water in my nose, in my eyes, my moth open and filled, and he didn't understand. He didn't see. I was afraid to move, and I loved him, and I wanted to give him my pain, to let him know that I would be there even through it... but he didn't even realize. He had no fucking clue.



I remember watching him wide-eyed, feeling the blade of a rough-worked knife at my throat, the sting and the drop of blood on my skin... it itched as it moved downward, a slow red line, and I didn't know if he was going to cut deeper or if he was going to stop, and then I was crying, begging him to take the knife away... and then begging him to kill me, because I thought he was right, I thought I was worthless, I thought that I deserved to die, that I couldn't make him happy so I deserved to die.



I remember listening to his voice, that slow speech, he chose his words so carefully, used them to cut me... we were sitting back in a corner of the classroom, the tall computerdesk hiding us from view, and he was explaing to me why he was going to fuck me, why I was going to shut up and take it, why he was going to use my mouth, nothing more... and I wanted to throw up, I told him I needed to go to the bathroom, and he blocked my way, I felt so tiny... as if I was going to disappear, as if a single breath could blow me away.



I remember the look on his face when he safeworded. That was the second time. The first time, I had caught it, I knew... this time, I thought he was giving ME one, and didn't understand, didn't see that he meant he was frightened, that he couldn't keep going, I didn't understand... I still hate myself for that, for not realizing that he was hurting as much as I had been hurt, for not seeing his pain, I KNOW how much it rips you apart not to have it seen, not to be understood, and I wasn't there for him... is it any wonder he will no longer give himself to me? Everyone makes mistakes... this one, I guess, was unforgivable.



I remember giving birth.



I remember the way she looked that night, with the blood on her fingers, and the fire burning, and the taste of salt in the air... I didn't dare close my eyes, I didn't want to see what I did, but it was all there... and her touch afterward, hot, as if she'd taken the fire into herself... I've learned to recognize that touch, and despite how badly frightened I was, despite what had happened, I wish she had kept touching me, I wish I had seen it for what it was and that I hadn't sat there like a log, that I had either cringed and let her hurt me again, or accepted and found pleasure with her again... I was blind, so blind, and I still wish that it had been different... I miss her right now, I woke last night dreaming of her, her voice in my ears and her hands on my body and that odd look in her eyes that she only got when she was going to cry but didn't, and hurt something instead.



I remember the sound of his voice when he told me that I was too much.



I remember the way I shook when he told me I was not enough.



I remember how horrible it felt to realize that it was over.



I remember watching him get on a plane... and feeling a pewter bracelet around my wrist... and crying onto Elric's shoulder because all I wanted to do right then was hide... because I'd failed.



I remember how much it hurts to fail.



I remember it very clearly, because I am being forced to feel it again.

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