Subject Project

For my Mental Health

[subjectproject]

Day One

I’m no stranger to waking up in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar body laying beside me. His big hands, warm body and scruffy face felt so unfamiliar pressed up against me. I didn’t dare open my eyes yet; the sweet moment of a fresh conquest was not yet fully savoured.

As he stirred himself awake, I reach my hand deeper below the pillow and retrieved my phone. 6 unread messages.

As he stirred, he pulled me in closer and held me tightly. I didn’t have the courage to tell him how much I hated it, and how much I hated being touched. We had had our time the night before, but the morning brought on a slew of partially digested sentiments about the debauchery of the evening I was not prepared to face yet.

[subjectproject]

[subjectproject]

I still think about it everyday. Mostly it's as soon as I get up, I'm rushed over by stale feelings of trust and appreciation that I quickly dismiss in order to get ready for the day. I go to school, I work, study and sometimes drift back into the trance you've had me in for over a year. I brush the complication away and get back to work. I finish up my day, pack my things and put my headphones in to wait for the bus. Ultralight Beam. Vice City. All We Got. Same Drugs. I rip my headphones out of my ears and check when the bus should arrive. Not too much longer. I board the bus, set my things down and put my headphones back in. Happy music, happy thought... Misterwives? Of course not; marred. Waters, Amy, Genesis, Snarky Puppy. That's better, I'm feeling it now but just in the context of happiness and comfort. It creeps, I don't want to hear this anymore, Vagabond. It's only a 20 minute bus ride, why is this so painful? Stop. You've done well this far, what did we decide about reliving and receding? It's useless, but truthfully so am I. We've arrived, I walk home, open the door and head upstairs. Bed? Bed. I'm exhausted and I can't go on.

[subjectproject]