I Need You In My Life

It had started with the photo album, the one that contained all of your photos from secondary school. Although you knew it would’ve been much wiser to put it straight into one of the boxes you had to pack your things into, you couldn’t help yourself and started flicking through the pages, looking at the photos of people who you thought you’d be friends with forever. You knew now how foolish it was to have relied on those people, the only people who’d befriended you and who had initially supported you through those difficult years of your life.
They’d helped you through abandonment by your primary school friends, stood by you when the relationship with your parents crumbled and, even when you turned to a blade rather than them, they’d been your support through the years of counselling you were subjected to. It had been because of them that you’d pulled through your first “fight” with depression, turned away from the blade that had comforted you for years and never completely gave up on life.
But that had all changed.
Eventually you guess that they’d had enough of your bullshit because one day they were no longer there, they were on the other side - taunting you, making snide remarks about your weight even though they knew that you struggled with eating regularly and properly on a day-to-day basis. Instead of being your support, they drove you back to the blade, back into the black hole you’d fought so hard to stay away from so you would be there to enjoy your days with them.
That was before you met Jack. The beautiful, gangly man who you’d served in a restaurant three years ago when you were seventeen and he was twenty-one, even though you’d blushed like a fool whenever he’d spoken to you or even looked your way he’d confidently introduced himself and given you his number with instructions to call him when your shift finished that night.
Two months down the line and several wonderful dates later, Jack had asked you to be his girlfriend which you’d eagerly accepted. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were, you’d got the perfect boyfriend who loved you flaws and all, who became your rock and dropped the rope into the black hole you’d slipped back into. Thanks to his loving support you’d been cut free for over a year and half, although it had taken you several relapses to realise that he was always going to stick around, and were back to fighting to get the most from every day. It was difficult and sometimes silly little things got to you but even when Jack was on tour he’d Skype you every night and then phone you or text you throughout the day too, he’d often send you cute little gifts when he was away, last tour he’d arranged for a gorgeous bouquet of flowers to be delivered to you midway through the tour with a message written on the card in his sloppy, childlike writing. He always knew how to make you smile.
Right now you were in your shared apartment alone, packing things into cardboard boxes ready for transfer into your new house and Jack was visiting Alex, Rian and Zack. That was how you’d ended up looking at the photos of your life before Jack, seeing the way you’d changed over the six year period the album covered, seeing the light leave your eyes in every photo you were in. You stopped at the last photo in which the smile was genuine; it was taken aged fourteen with the girls who had turned on you. Everything they’d ever said to you started circulating round your brain, all the harsh comments that targeted your insecurities. Each thing you remembered, the more triggered you felt, you knew you should just close the album, put it in a box and move on but it was like you were completely frozen until the itch under your skin got too much.
Throwing the album aside, you rose from your seat on the ground and ran to your photography room, it was your private place and Jack had always honoured your wish for him to not go in it. Rushing in you scrabbled on your desk, shoving photographs and papers aside until you found your pencil sharpener. Not bothering to search for scissors, you smashed at the plastic casing with shaking hands until the blade came lose.
Breathing deeply to try and calm your trembling fingers, you fumbled with your sweatpants before pulling them down, lining the blade up and making the first cut. When you didn’t feel anything, no sting from the cut or sweet release you were craving, you cut again, and again, and again. The sobs ripping through your chest were so loud you didn’t hear Jack open the door and come in, calling out a loving greeting, but he heard you. Following the sounds of your cries, he came to your door and, finding it slightly open, nudged it gently with his foot and stuck his head around the door.
Jack’s eyes opened wide as he saw you hunched over, crying and watched in horror as you cut your thigh again, the blood dripping onto the floor and creating a scarlet puddle. Stepping into the room, Jack softly called your name, looking up you saw Jack standing in front of you, a tear rolling down his face, and dropped the blade into the ever increasing pool of blood.
“I’m sorry.” You croaked with a voice hoarse from sobbing. Jack only shook his head before bending down and scooping you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and taking you from your room into the bathroom where you were sat gently onto the countertop next to the sink.
“Jack, I’m so sorry.” You repeated, he only nodded and removed your sweatpants, throwing them into the wash basket. “I mean it, Jack. Look at me. Please?”
“Y/N, I don’t know what to say…can I just clean you up first before we talk about this?” Jack asked quietly, looking into your eyes, you could only nod meekly so he got to work. He tenderly wiped each cut with damp tissue, applying pressure to them to stem the blood flow with one hand and he searched for some bandages with the other. After locating the bandages he threw all the bloody, damp tissues into the sink and worked at gently dabbing some antiseptic cream around the cuts before tightly wrapping your thigh up with a bandage.
He lifted you down and watched as you gingerly tested your weight on the sore leg, following behind as you limped into the living room and curled up on the sofa before sitting carefully next to you and angling himself so he was facing you.
“Why?” Pleading eyes met yours, his hand reaching around and enveloping one of yours before squeezing gently. You couldn’t lie to him and so you told him how you’d found the photo album and it had brought back so many bad memories, it had triggered you. “You know I love you, right?” Was the next thing he asked, with tears pricking at your eyes all you could do was nod.
“Please promise me that the next time you feel like that you’ll phone me, I don’t care what time of day or night it is I’ll be there if not back here as soon as I can because you mean so much to me and I don’t want to ever lose you. Y/N I love you so much and I can’t lose you, it’d destroy me, you know that. We can fight this together, you’re my beautiful best friend and gorgeous girlfriend and I need you in my life. I’ll always be here.”
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you nodded and allowed Jack to carefully pull you onto his lap, kissing your hair and face gently.
“Jack?” You mumbled, “thank you and…I-I love you.”
“I love you too.”