402: Tumour

402: Tumour

Bad thoughts are poisonous for you. They can seep into the deep recesses of your mind and fester like an infected wound until it’s too late to seek treatment. They’re like cancer cells, killing healthy ones and multiplying until they have major dominance over the body. Then the body dies. There is nothing left to save.

Same thing. It starts off as dark, heavy liquid pooling in the bottom of your stomach. Your feet start to freeze over and it’s hard to lift them off the ground. Your mouth goes dry and all you can think of are these bad thoughts swirling in your head. They transform into these gruesome, black arms that wrap around your neck, at first like an unpleasant necklace, but then like a boa constrictor’s death grip. Your eyes pop and your breath shortens, your arms struggle to fight them off. Your legs flail, key moments of your life flash pass your eyes. Not one of them contains your phone. But they all contain him, and the very last moment is one you wish you’d forgotten, because it’s the last one you remember before you die of asphyxiation.

So yeah I don’t really tell him when I cry anymore. He says it’s heartbreaking to watch, and he doesn’t want me to cry. And sometimes when he gets mad at me, I will cry too. But of course I don’t tell him. He doesn’t want to hear it. And I don’t want him to be hurting because of me. But maybe he is, and I want to fix it, but how do you do that when you made the mistake and he told you to fuck off?

So I cry. I wonder how I should tell him what I had for dinner without him snapping off at me or being cold towards me.

Honey, I either had some roast beef with noodles or roast beef with rice and an assortment of vegetables. I don’t know yet because I haven’t had dinner, and I don’t think either of us want to message the other right now, and that’s fine. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for overreacting, because that’s all I seem to be doing nowadays and I’m sorry that I had to ruin the good day we both had.


~ Serendipitous


Fucking hell this hurts.

24 days until I’m 18.


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