A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [36]
I close the window and I go to the Bathroom and I turn on the shower and take off my clothes and drop them in a pile on the tile floor. I walk over to the mirror. I want to see myself. I want to look into the pale green of my eyes and see not my physical self, but the self that lives beneath. I look at my lips. They are slightly swollen, but almost normal. I look at the stitches and the hole. The hole is starting to heal, the stitches are doing their job. I look at my nose. I take the bandage off and I throw the bandage in the garbage can. My nose is straight, though there is a new bump along its ridge. I look at the area beneath my eyes. The black is starting to fade and is turning yellow, the swelling is nearly gone. I start to look up. I want to look into the pale green of my eyes. I want to see not my physical self, but the self that lives beneath. I move closer. Closer. I want to look into the pale green of my eyes. I want to look into the self that lives beneath. Closer, closer. I can’t do it. No fucking way.
I turn away and I walk to the shower and I step into the shower and I am pummeled by the heat. It burns me and it turns my skin red and it hurts but I won’t step away from it. I deserve this hurt for not being brave enough to look at myself. I deserve this hurt and I will stand and I will take it because I am not brave enough to look into my own eyes.
When I get numb, I add the cold and I sit down on the floor and I let the water run over my body and soothe the burns. The burning is tiring and the cold tires me more. I close my eyes and I let my body shut itself down and I let my mind wander. It wanders to a familiar place. A place I don’t talk about or acknowledge exists. A place where there is only me. A place that I hate.
I am alone. Alone here and alone in the world. Alone in my heart and alone in my mind. Alone everywhere, all the time, for as long as I can remember. Alone with my Family, alone with my friends, alone in a Room full of People. Alone when I wake, alone through each awful day, alone when I finally meet the blackness. I am alone in my horror. Alone in my horror.
I don’t want to be alone. I have never wanted to be alone. I fucking hate it. I hate that I have no one to talk to, I hate that I have no one to call, I hate that I have no one to hold my hand, hug me, tell me everything is going to be all right. I hate that I have no one to share my hopes and my dreams with, I hate that I no longer have any hopes or dreams, I hate that I have no one to tell me to hold on, that I can find them again. I hate that when I scream, and I scream bloody murder, that I am screaming into emptiness. I hate that there is no one to hear my scream and that there is no one to help me learn how to stop screaming. I hate that what I have turned to in my loneliness lives in a pipe or a bottle. I hate that what I have turned to in my loneliness is killing me, has already killed me, or will kill me soon. I hate that I will die alone. I will die alone in my horror.
More than anything, all I have ever wanted is to be close to someone. More than anything, all I have ever wanted is to feel as if I wasn’t alone. I have tried many times, tried to kill my loneliness with a girl or a woman, and it was never right. We would be together and be close to each other, but no matter how close we were, I still felt alone. They felt that loneliness and it made them want to get closer. When they tried, I either ran or did something to destroy what we felt for each other. I can run fast when I want to run fast, and I’ve always been good at destroying things. Not one of them would be willing to speak to me today.
The last one was the only one who made me feel the way I always wanted to feel. She made me feel better than I have ever felt, better than I imagined I could feel, and it scared me, scared me to the point of paralysis. When she offered herself to me, I failed. That failure drove me to destruction. I destroyed her, destroyed me, destroyed the two of us together. I destroyed the hope of a future.