Wrists

The pain in my chest subsided, so I was able to go to college the next day. My sister was unusually quiet, as she’s always been the past few days. I made her her eggs and bowl of cereal, and even tried to eat more in front of her to prove I had nothing to hide and nothing wrong with me, but I broke out in cold sweat at the last minute and fed it to our dog instead. Coffee was a safer choice.

I got to the campus coffee shop and bought myself yet another cup of tall coffee, and sat down to sip it quietly. Elijah and May were nowhere to be seen. It brought a pained, empty feeling in my chest, but I willed it away and attempted to move on with my life. Things were supposed to be better now that he was off my back. Things were supposed to go back to normal. I was supposed to be free from judging, overly-concerned eyes.

So why did I feel so lost?

I hated feeling that way. I hated it so badly. I couldn’t take my mind off of a man who I fucking met a few days before. I couldn’t comprehend why someone I met on such short notice was someone I couldn’t stop thinking about. Was it because he was the first person I felt genuinely cared? But wasn’t he just like the rest of them—fake? Which part of my mind was talking; the demons or my real self? What even was my real self anymore?

I fished out the re-folded piece of paper and studied it, forgetting all about my tall cup of coffee. His handwriting was blocky and all-caps, like a man, but he curled the tails of his Y’s and J’s, in a feminine way. Elijah was so strange. So odd. So difficult to figure out.

Or maybe I was the difficult one?