Page 70 of Nemesync
The drive back to the penthouse is a painful struggle, raindrops on the windshield, tears streaming down my face. I’m a mess.
Grief is a stubborn sickness and comes back without any warning, making it almost impossible to heal wounds that remain painfully crude and fresh. But the guilt that follows is something more agonizing than anything.
Certain scars are so sensitive to the touch.
They’re so delicate with dormant pain, and tonight, they’re open again, and it’s overwhelming to feel them.
It’s painfully hurting.
I am once again, alone, and in a burst of impulse, I shoot a text to Elijah.
Me
I blame you.
19
ZANAE
Inever thought loneliness could be so loud. All I hear is a cacophony that drowns out everything else around me.
When I zone out, my mind goes blank, and I’m left all alone, with these voices in my head that screams and screams and fucking screams at me.
IT’S YOUR FAULT ZANAE, IT’S YOUR FAULT ZANAE, IT’S YOUR FAULT ZANAE.
They never stop whenever I feel alone, they come back and yell even when it’s not loud outside.
They just take control of me.
END IT, IF YOU WANT US TO SHUT UP.
Leave me alone, please, please, please.
I beg, cry, implore them to shut up, but they don’t, they never stop.
Why me? What have I done to deserve this?
God why are you making it so hard to survive?
Breathe Z, breathe.
What should I do, where should I go to find someone to talk to? I don’t even want to; I’m trying so hard that it hurts in my mind.
I have to be strong, I must show no weakness, it’s so hard that sometimes letting myself go like I did tonight can be relaxing.
It’s like I’m free-falling, hurtling towards the ground and hitting it brutally, the impact reminding me that my dreams of happiness has dried up, gone fucking silent.
Why am I here, and what emotions should I allow to surface?
Why is it so complicated to control myself?
I have so much to say to reassure my heart, but no words seem strong enough.
Deep down, I know I can’t go easy on myself. It’s tough, unbearable at times. Being my own confidant and judge at the same time drains me, emotionally and mentally.
Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and my head felt way too heavy from my thoughts.
I punch the steering wheel again and again and again, searching for pain, to feel it again, to remind me that I’m still breathing, that I’m still here.
