Perfectly Perfect Logan
Is this about your mother?
Logan’s P.O.V
I get back home from ice creams with Mia. I’m telling you that girl is something. She makes me happy. It’s weird. As soon as I walked through the kitchen door, Dad pats me on the back. “Hey buddy!” It’s been like this for months now. Pats on the back, spontaneous gifts, hugs, you name it! Ever since he found me in my room ready for Suicide: Take 35 and sent me to a psychiatrist. Ever since I’ve been diagnosed with depression. Ever since I’ve been on the meds. I know he means well but it’s just a constant reminder to me of how messed up I am.
Why? He always wanted to know as if I could tell him. Is this about your mother? I’d never admit it but it was. My mother left us when I was 10. No goodbyes, no calls, no letters. Nothing. As if we’d never existed. I never understood that. It always hurt but I was still a kid. Still confused. I don’t know what made me want to kill myself. But the sadness just accumulated over the years. It was literally unbearable and it seemed like the only way out. I don’t like that I thought like that. Looking back I feel like I’ve been weak. I don’t like feeling weak. I want to be strong, at least for my younger brother. It’s harder than it seems though.
“Hey Dad.” I smiled at him. I think he blames himself, for mom leaving, for me going into depression, for me trying to kill myself. He always looks at me as if I’m his deceased son. Like I’m not standing there in front of him. As if I wasn’t still alive. “I’m gonna go get started on homework.” I trudged up the stairs. It’s been seven years since mom left. I need to let go. I need to forget. I need to put it all behind but how can? Even the girl I’ve been dating is everything my mom. Or at least everything I believed my mom to be when I was 10. Now if that isn’t messed up, I don’t know what is. After she left her image changed in my head, though. I don’t recognize that woman anymore but I recognize Mia.
Do I love Mia? Or is she just an obsession? Some sick little mommy problem I have? It’s funny. From the first second I laid my eyes on I knew there was something. Something clicked. I wasn’t sure what it was and I’m still not sure. I walked into my bedroom to catch Mitch sitting on my bedroom floor with his Pokémon card collection set in front of him. I don’t like messes. “Aww Mitch! What’re you doing now?” I sighed. I don’t like being too harsh on him. He’s reason number one I’m still alive after all… Long story.
Mitch is 10. The same age I was when Mom left. He barely remembers Mom. It’s better that way. It hurts less. Mitch’s hair was short, blonde and spiked up. He wore glasses, similar to mine, and played a lot of Pokémon. “Hello Logan.” Oh and he says ‘Hello’ a lot.
“Hi Mitch,” I watch as he gathers his cards off my floor, “did you need anything?
“No.” He walks out of the room. “Just needed a change of scenery.” He usually checks up on me. I know this because I’ve noticed him snooping around before. He knows I’ve tried to kill myself before.
“Kay.” I didn’t feel like questioning him now. I’m too tired. Suddenly I felt every inch of my body tire. I need to sleep. I need to stop thinking.
I get back home from ice creams with Mia. I’m telling you that girl is something. She makes me happy. It’s weird. As soon as I walked through the kitchen door, Dad pats me on the back. “Hey buddy!” It’s been like this for months now. Pats on the back, spontaneous gifts, hugs, you name it! Ever since he found me in my room ready for Suicide: Take 35 and sent me to a psychiatrist. Ever since I’ve been diagnosed with depression. Ever since I’ve been on the meds. I know he means well but it’s just a constant reminder to me of how messed up I am.
Why? He always wanted to know as if I could tell him. Is this about your mother? I’d never admit it but it was. My mother left us when I was 10. No goodbyes, no calls, no letters. Nothing. As if we’d never existed. I never understood that. It always hurt but I was still a kid. Still confused. I don’t know what made me want to kill myself. But the sadness just accumulated over the years. It was literally unbearable and it seemed like the only way out. I don’t like that I thought like that. Looking back I feel like I’ve been weak. I don’t like feeling weak. I want to be strong, at least for my younger brother. It’s harder than it seems though.
“Hey Dad.” I smiled at him. I think he blames himself, for mom leaving, for me going into depression, for me trying to kill myself. He always looks at me as if I’m his deceased son. Like I’m not standing there in front of him. As if I wasn’t still alive. “I’m gonna go get started on homework.” I trudged up the stairs. It’s been seven years since mom left. I need to let go. I need to forget. I need to put it all behind but how can? Even the girl I’ve been dating is everything my mom. Or at least everything I believed my mom to be when I was 10. Now if that isn’t messed up, I don’t know what is. After she left her image changed in my head, though. I don’t recognize that woman anymore but I recognize Mia.
Do I love Mia? Or is she just an obsession? Some sick little mommy problem I have? It’s funny. From the first second I laid my eyes on I knew there was something. Something clicked. I wasn’t sure what it was and I’m still not sure. I walked into my bedroom to catch Mitch sitting on my bedroom floor with his Pokémon card collection set in front of him. I don’t like messes. “Aww Mitch! What’re you doing now?” I sighed. I don’t like being too harsh on him. He’s reason number one I’m still alive after all… Long story.
Mitch is 10. The same age I was when Mom left. He barely remembers Mom. It’s better that way. It hurts less. Mitch’s hair was short, blonde and spiked up. He wore glasses, similar to mine, and played a lot of Pokémon. “Hello Logan.” Oh and he says ‘Hello’ a lot.
“Hi Mitch,” I watch as he gathers his cards off my floor, “did you need anything?
“No.” He walks out of the room. “Just needed a change of scenery.” He usually checks up on me. I know this because I’ve noticed him snooping around before. He knows I’ve tried to kill myself before.
“Kay.” I didn’t feel like questioning him now. I’m too tired. Suddenly I felt every inch of my body tire. I need to sleep. I need to stop thinking.
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I think I prefer writing in Logan's P.O.V... leave comments telling me what you thought! One of my favorite chapters to type.