Nate Part 4
“Don’t cry, kitty. I went to my clinic, you know? The one I inherited from my dad, and I’m the boss there. I even got two shots in my butt. I had several outbursts because of Afefobia, you know how it is... But I couldn’t call Ana. She’s getting married, so I didn’t want to bother her more,” she says nonsensically, letting out sad little laughs, as if she’s slowly giving in to what crushes her heart. The part about going to her clinic and having a trigger seems coherent because, even if they touched her to stitch her up, she probably froze. “I’m also going to take antibiotics. And I have a trusted doctor there, just for when I’m cut like this. If I go somewhere else, someone might want to admit me as suicidal.”
“And doesn’t that seem like what you are?” I ask, dropping to the floor, staring at the lost look she leaves on the wall behind me. “When you cut yourself like this, what are you trying to do? Isn’t it to die?”
Her words dig into my chest, leaving deep holes where my sanity is buried. How am I going to be okay knowing that she did all this because she thought I was with another woman?
“I’ve thought about killing myself several times, but the cuts are ways to avoid that. I didn’t cut to die; I just cut to feel a pain greater than the emotional one. The burning skin silences all the ghosts, who have your face, or my mom's, my stepdad's, the people from school, who scream and yell and tell stories about how I deserve to be mistreated, cast aside. I can only silence them like this.”
I fold my knees, then wrap my hands around my head and cry. I allow an intense cry, which should have been released long ago, to come to the surface, and the only thing echoing off the walls are my laments, which I should have freed when I was eight years old. When I suffered and lied to myself that I had to be a strong man, different from what that whole situation made of me.
I release the suffering I never set free when I felt exactly those words that Isabela uttered. When I heard every ghost screaming that I was abandoned, with the face of my mother, my father, and my uncle. Ghosts that told me to my face that there was no one to stop that tragedy.
She is made of the same composition as me: forged in pain.
“You always deserved to be loved. Unfortunately, you just found people who never knew how to give love. I’m one of them. I only received good things from my sister, which were yours for a while, but I was already too condemned to be what you truly deserved.”
“You gave me a lot of love before you chose to gift me all these doses of pain.”
“I got a lot of pain from you too,” I say, trying to wipe my face and dodge the sobs, feeling weak. “I’m willing to stop thinking about the past. Just to never see you like this again.”
“I wish I could stop thinking about the pain you cause me, but you remind me of it all the time because you keep hurting me,” she says, staring at the cuts on her wrists. One has three marks, while the other has just a small superficial tear that didn’t need stitches. “I’ve been cutting myself since 2015. Don’t feel guilty about it. It wasn’t to get your attention. It was just to escape my emotions. And I went to the Bosque to shove it in your face and kiss Fabi. I was going to have a great time with that busty girl, just so you could feel what you caused in my heart. But I didn’t find her, so the treat was really tempting.”
I get really pissed off imagining the scene of her with another woman. No! Unlike any other guy, who would definitely be hard thinking about it, I don’t want ANYONE touching my woman. That wouldn’t make me excited at all, just angry!
“Who told you I was with Fabiana?” I insist, wanting to know if it was that bastard Pierre, just to have sold one of those damn treats to her.
“I saw it on Ian's Story. She was sitting on your lap, and you don’t need to deny it. You’re wearing the same clothes from the video.” Her voice sounds bitter and droopy. “You know that, in reality, we don’t have anything, right? I’m yours, unfortunately, because I must have some really big karma to pay, and that’s why I came so messed up in this incarnation. But you don’t have a trauma. You can sleep with whoever you want. I, on the other hand, can only be touched by you.”
“My dick doesn’t even get hard with another woman,” I confess, making her let out a laugh so perfect that I hit the ground beside me, calling her. She comes but crawls over, looking like a needy kitten. I roll my eyes but relax when she sits with her back against me. I take the chance to grab her wrist and take a better look. Even though there’s some dry blood around, there are no missing stitches. “I don’t want to lose you!” I kiss her head, then take a deep breath through my nose to soak in that incredible scent that only she has. “Are you in pain, My Sun?”
“I’m not feeling anything. And you haven’t lost me. I’ll always be yours, even knowing that I lost you seven years ago. But you... you never truly lost me. I’ve always been here, dragging myself along, surviving the best way I could, dreaming that you’d come back. Until one day, I woke up and realized that dreaming of you just made me suffer more, so I started pretending I was dead. Then I managed to try to move on, and life gave me Ana.”
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
