#13 | tonight’s reminder
you will NOT relapse.
yes, i know:
you’ve spent hours on end, hiccuping between sobs, screaming into pillows, endlessly, till you’ve set your throat on fire enough, the conflagration where your heart should be looks like a mere spark instead.
you’ve spent days teetering back and forth between sanity and insanity, holding onto whoever throws the slightest glance at you, feigning concern with a touch of genuine sincerity — this faux worry, hold onto it, you tell yourself, for it’s the only thing keeping the distance between you and that ledge you’ve been eyeing for months, no, years.
you’ve spent months celebrating your progress, detesting your regress; disguising the latter with skilfully winged eyeliner and a new dark lipstick, coupled with three layers of concealer to hide the dark circles ruminating past midnight gifted you with. has anyone noticed how good you’re getting at this? hiding where you plant the traces of your relapses?
the answer’s no — and i’m so proud of you.
but tonight, while the fire in your heart and the fire in your throat have grown so strong — i’m surprised your oesophagus is still intact, you will not relapse.
tonight, when your skin looks so beautiful, almost inviting new trails to regret, you will not relapse.
tonight, while your mother sleeps another oblivious night, believing the last time you said ‘i agree, it was just a phase,’ you will be rational. you will not relapse.
you won’t, because as much time you’ve spent hiding from the matches that turn your little sparks into angry, internal infernos, you’ve learnt to keep those matches away too. that you can hold them in your hand, shaky as you are, and not light yourself on fire.
you will not relapse, not tonight.