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Choices

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Sometimes, I prefer my own company. The main reason for this is that nobody can hurt you when you’re on your own. You can lie there in complete solitude and not feel a thing. No touch, no feel. Sometimes I reach a point where I am in complete control of my emotions, because nobody is there to alter my thoughts. I give myself advice, I talk to myself in my head and I convince myself that if I wish hard enough to be happy, then I will be. Because Ican. I can do that when I’m on my own.
Sometimes, I reach a point where I am numb. Likewise, no touch, no feel. It can be good for a bit but if I lie there for long enough, I get an overwhelming desire to feel something. Physically. I can dig my nails into my skin and drag them slowly. I can repeatedly punch myself in the same place until a dark spot will mark it’s territory. In these moments, I am allowed control over my physical pain. Scars that may be left were left there by choice, because I chose to put them there. I controlled that choice and I controlled that pain. Emotional pain is something of a different kind. It is a lot more difficult to control and it requires more effort. Most people tend to give up, accept it and wallow in their misery.

I remember when he asked me to spend the night. I didn’t have to go, I had the choice. I knew exactly how I would feel the next day and still I went. I remember the feeling of his hands through my hair and his lips and teeth on my neck and I particularly remember his nails digging into my bare back like he didn’t want to let go. Sometimes when I’m on my own, I try to imitate it. I dig my own nails into my own skin and I drag it and I close my eyes and I pretend it’s him. But it doesn’t feel the same. I remember lying next to him in his bed and he smiled at me and in that exact moment, I felt true happiness. The world started to move away from us and in a sea of sheets, we were safe. Nobody else mattered any more and everything I felt in that moment was because of him. I lost control of it all that night. I made the choice to. I chose to sleep in his arms and I chose to believe a lie. I chose to, despite the fact that I knew I would no longer exist to him the next day. I chose to let him take a part of my soul and not return it.

Now, when I lie in my bedroom on my own, I think about him. I find it extremely difficult not to. I imagine him asking me to stay the night again and I imagine kissing him again and I imagine him holding onto me as though he can’t bare to let me go. Sometimes, I imagine so hard that it becomes an expectation, and I wait. And when it doesn’t happen, I think. I think too much to the point of over-analysing. I assess every moment, I wonder what I did wrong and I wish that I had said something else. And then I feel sad because I know that the past is irreversible and I know that I don’t mean anything to him anymore.

I remember when I got out of bed at half 3 in the morning to go and see him because he asked me to. I remember falling asleep with him on the grass at 2 in the morning. I remember him making me a promise that he would never hurt me.

It scares me that another human being, just like myself, has the ability to make me feel like this. It amazes me how I cannot control my emotional pain. It is my mind, it is my body and yet I still don’t have full control. And just because I am used to it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.Sometimes, when I am on my own, I want him to hurt me. Because I want to know that I still cross his mind.
I find it almost comical that he is so unaware of the hold that he has on me. And I am trying to let go because I have the choice to.

The sharp stab of emotional pain is not chosen. However, suffering from it is. am going to be okay because I will choose to be.

by dark-b-l-u-e


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