Done

Is it christmas? Is it the that time of the year where it feels like most of the day it’s dark outside? Or is it just the trigger of that one person coming into my personal space?

I’m hoping it’s all three. Because that would mean the trigger didn’t bring me down as bad as I thought it would.
I can’t even say; back off. I can’t find the words, they’re stuck in my throat. All I can do is stare into the distance and wait. Fade away inside myself, into this emptiness. While a tiny part of me just wishes for some comfort, even if it’s from my mum. For someone to come save me. Get this thing away from me.

But it’s not my place. Not anymore. It can just go around and to its thing. No matter how it feels to me. I mean that’s what’s freedom is about right? It would take ages to write the whole story. Which wouldn’t even matter, because I like to clear my head while writing stuff down, but I’m just too scared that everyone would say it’s all in my head, my fault, that I’m overreacting.

At some point I was sitting and staring yesterday, and he touched the top of my head in a “comforting gesture” (makes me sick to my stomach), and I just kept on feeling his hand on my head, on top of my hair. Even though I knew, his hand wasn’t there anymore. After a while I just had to go rub my head against the wall to get his hand off of it.

This isn’t worth anything.
I’m done.

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