I remember last May, you were locked in the bathroom for exactly 43 minutes. I was in a complete panic because I knew you kept a razor hidden on the second shelf of your closet, and when I moved your clothes to look, it wasn’t there. My heart then felt as if it were rolling down my chest. I remember you came out of the bathroom with a stain wrist, and eyes that cried for help. I remember your changed into your pajamas in front of me for the first time, and I saw 8 parallel lines smothering your upper right thigh. You said they were just stretch marks, but you couldn’t fool me. I remember when your mother saw the red pale lines that gathered on your left arm, and she carelessly laughed in your face and told you that this was the 6th time and that you belonged in a “nut house.” I just stood there in shock, my heart pounding fast. I fathomed, you needed your mother, you wished she understood even though you always deny it. Maybe then, mommy’s little girl would stop. I remember last May, we went to sleep at exactly 4:56 AM, and we woke up at 8:00 AM. It was 97 degrees outside, and you wore a long sleeve shirt, and you garnished your hopeless face with a make-pretend happy one. You were so good at it. You smiled and laughed with your friends after what I witnessed a couple of hours ago. I couldn’t understand how they didn’t see the two frowns under your eyes. I didn’t understand how those were your friends when they don’t see the frowns living in your eyes. Isn’t a friend supposed to know you, after all? Soon, I realized those scars made you feel whole. They made the wreck in your heart stop. They resembled all of the pain you carry. You were slowly suffocating on the inside, so you harmed yourself to let the pain come out. This was your anesthetic bad habit. Exactly, one year has passed and when I see you, I gaze at your arms when you aren’t looking. I look in your eyes and I can still see those frowns. I see you with your friends and I don’t understand because they don’t really know you, they’ve never met the real you. They’ve met the make-pretend version of you. But, I wish you knew that you can confide in me, I could be your time capsule, but you refuse to notice that. I could see when your eyes smile, and I’ll keep trying my best to make those moments happen.
Alexa Evangelista, Dear _____, (via vodkakilledtheteen)
