It makes the pain stop, if only for a while
He had a rough day. It was different than his bad days at McKinley; the slushies, shoves, slurs, dumpsters. No, this was much worse. This was the feeling of having nowhere to fit in. Blaine was different, much different than the Vogue loving, Katy Perry fanatic that he had hung out with daily. This was stuffy, proper Blaine.
He couldn't help but feel relieved as the final bell of the day rang. There was no Warblers' practice today so he was free to go home and vent. Venting to himself was his way of dealing. he liked to complain, that much was known, but he hated laying his problems on other people. He was mistaken for a girl on so many counts, but he was a guy. He had manly-pride. He could deal with his own problems. He did deal with his own problems.
In his own way.
It started his freshman year. He was used to not having friends; ever since the meaning of "gay" had been found out by his peers, he was friendless. He had just expected it to change. They were supposed to be more mature. He was supposed to have found someone. Someone to reciprocate. But he didn't. Instead, he found the blade.
It began as small cuts on the inside of his thigh, a place where no one could see. Soon, he moved to his stomach, upper arm and the occasional wrist marking. There were too many cuts to count. Too much blood loss altogether, but not at once.
He wasn't stupid enough to kill himself. No, he just wanted a stronger pain. Physical pain to make the emotional pain fade.
If only for a while.
Another drabble.
R&R?