Billy Talent

On the drive home, I listen to Try Honesty. I almost lose it. All I want is honesty, and yet I don't get it. Completly blindsided, I wonder where this all came from.

She asks if I'll leave, but doesn't beg me to stay. I'm not sure what she wants anymore.

Reddit and Netflix try to keep my mind occupied, but blood stains are everywhere. Constant reminders that I'll never be good enough.

My instincts are always correct. I knew around four, that she was going to see him. To meet him. She doesn't tell me and it kills me. I convince myself that I am wrong, and there's no merit behind these thoughts. Confirmation comes in the morning as I scrape the ice off the windshield. Just salt into the already ripped apart wounds.

I don't know what she wants. She tells me she hasn't believed a word I've said. How am I supposed to help her, when she has no faith in me. No faith in herself. Grace, is being given a gift that you don't deserve. I tried to give her a gift, but it wasn't recieved. My mind, my heart, my soul, my necklace, my love. None of it is recieved. The things I tell her while she sleeps, not only fall on deaf ears, but on a sub-conscious that will not allow these messages to sink in.

I pick up the razor. Her blood is on my hands. Literally, and metaphorically. I wonder at its power. Something so small, can destroy so much. Devestation. She doesn't get it, but her wrists are not the only ones that feel its calling. Beg for it's release, or understand its addiction.

Her cuts are deep and many. Im concerned, and she's angry. Mad that I know her. Mad that I know this. Mad that I don't let it go. She desperatly tries to push me away. With her words, and her actions. Something tells me she doesn't want this, and she'll do anything to force my hands. But here I'll stand. I'll take the pain, and the hurt. I will endure. For her. I love this girl.

My back is sore, I haven't slept in 24 hours, and won't sleep for 24 more. I lay beside her, wondering if she'll ever accept my love, ever accept me. I try to sleep, but afraid to move. Afraid to hurt her. I drift off, only to be haunted by my dreams. Not the same ones as before, new ones. Ones that speak of hate. Of destruction. Of pain. I snap awake and fight the urge to fall asleep. I want to write, I want to get up, I want to clean, I want to pre-occupy my mind so I don't have to think about this. But I will not leave her. Not now, not ever. She won't believe me, no matter what I say. No matter what I do. The only thing at this point, is to be. To be here. To be beside her. That I can promise her.

I'm not going to leave.
I love you.

Lucy rests her head on my lap. She's seen this before and she knows what to do. She falls asleep in the most uncomfortable way, but she does it for me. She won't leave. All the pain she knows from her past, is no more. I've shown her eternal love, and in return she shows me respect, loyalty, pride, and love. I wonder if I can do this for you. No matter what happens, show you love, because you've shown me love.

I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I'm not going to leave.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.  I love you.

I love you.