You gave up on me

I told you, one day you’d give upon me.

I told you, one day, you, like other guys, will give up on me.

But you promised.

You promised to stay with me forever. To love me.

And I believed you.

You were so convincing. The way you softly said it, with so much meaning. With your eyes gazing into mine as you whispered the words ‘forever’. I believed you, and I felt fulfilled. Like I was a whole person.

I believed you. You said you loved me.

***

He once called me. It was one of ‘those’ nights. I was cutting. My arms were like a piece of paper graced with writings, but it was my skin, and the ink was my blood.

He didn’t mean to call me. He was drunk. I saw who was calling me. I never deleted his number. Never ever. I waited for it to ring a few times, then answered it. I didn’t say hello. He just launched into conversation.

“Mum?”

Silence.

“Mum. I need picking up. I’m at that party I told you about. I can’t walk home. I’ve got Joanna with me and-”

I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Wrong number, Tom”.

He fell silent then. I could hear the party in the background. Voices, but none I knew. “Why do you have my mum’s phone?” he asked accusingly. I felt venom in his voice. My heart broke just a little more.

“I don’t. You have the wrong number.”

“Right…”

He was just about to hang up, I heard the whoosh of air as the phone left his ear, but I stopped him “You made a promise, remember?”

Silence for one second, “What?” he said, irritated.

***

“You made a promise. You promised that you’d never leave me” I choked out at him. Just saying these words made me cry now. I could feel my cheeks go red, although I’m not sure how. It’s just that kind of feeling.

He was silent then. I couldn’t even hear his breathing. Then the click of him hanging him. He had nothing to say to me.

I cried further that night, and cut further. Deeper than I thought I could go. A few days ago I thought I wouldn’t need to do this. I never thought I’d get this upset. But as I took apart my razor and withdrew the blades into my hands, and shortly cutting into my arms, I knew that I was unhappy. I did it silently, music pounding into my ears, my cheeks glistening with tears, my hair matted and tangled from days in my room and nowhere else. I went to bed bleeding, crying, alone. I yearned for him. For Tom.

* * *

I could feel his warm body next to me, hugging me, keeping me close. I could feel his breath on my forehead from where he last kissed me. Now he is asleep, but he is with me. Our hands entwined, warm, sweaty, but perfect somewhat. I gazed at him, the guy I loved. The guy I held hands with all day whilst we trudged through the falling snow. The guy I shared straws with at Starbucks, ending in kissing minutes later. The guy who makes me feel so happy and so full every single day of my life. I loved him, I showed it, and he loved me, he showed it. Forever and more.

* * *

I woke up with the moon still staring at me through the window. The memories of my past still etched into me from that dream. That felt so long ago, but it was just days long by. I couldn’t help. I cried more.