I have this unwelcome ability to feel completely alone...all the time. I sat on my bed, facing the blank wall ahead of me, studying the constant paleness of it. I did that a lot. Just sat in my room and thought. I would draw my curtains and lie in bed with all the covers on and waste my life away. My roommate Dan would occasionally make me get up, force me to eat something. Dan. My deep sigh broke the static silence of the room. It wouldn't be so quiet if Dan was home. I stifled the thought of missing him. He would be back soon. I told myself I wasn't alone. I don't know why I bother with the lies anymore. I took a swig from the bottle of Vodka I kept on my bedside table when I became thirsty for a drink. I wanted to drink away my fear, but I knew it wouldn't work.

I walked to the window and opened the glass, allowing the London night to enter my sanctuary. The weather that day had been overcast, the sky thick with clouds, but the ground remained dry. Days like that always made me feel heavier. Like the thick air was weighing me down. It was always nights like that when I started thinking if things I shouldn't. I thought of the horrid expression on her face when I came out to my mum. I could still her voice when she told me my father would be ashamed of having a fagot for a son. I thought about the day of my father funeral. My mother's loud sob echoing through the empty church. We were the only people besides the minister who actually showed up. I couldn't understand why she was so upset. She always said that she hated him, but the moment he was gone, she lost it.

I thought of her receiving the news her only son was found dead. I imagined her rolling her eyes when they told her about the alcohol in my system and the slits in my wrist. I wondered if she would laugh. Maybe smile with glee that her faggot son wouldn't be around to embarrass her anymore. I fought back tears that burned my eyes.
I hoped that Dan might care that I was gone. I didn't want him to be upset... I just wanted him to care. Even if he was upset at first, he would get over it quickly. Dan was lucky like that. He could move on when something bad happened... I couldn't. It struck me as depressing how short my list of people was. Two people. That's all I would really be leaving behind.
Without noticing what I was doing, I scratched a scab on my arm. I gasped when the thin scab broke open and blood rushed to the surface. I closed my eyes as the rush of feeling hit me. It was like a bubbly feeling deep in my stomach, which spread to my fingertips making me feel so ALIVE. I examine my bleeding arm, tracing the deep cuts that covered my pale skin.
Need overwhelmed my body, pulling me to wardrobe where I found my stash of razors. I opened the little box and grabbed the first blade my fingers touched. In one swift motion I pulled the blade through the thin skin of my wrist, closing my eyes at the instantaneous pain. I bit my lip and repeated the motion, over and over again until then entire area was covered in blood.
I held the blade in my non-dominant hand and pressed the razor into the other wrist. My hand was shaking, but I ignored it. I pressed deeper, watching more and more blood drip down my arm. The metallic stench of blood was filling my nostrils, and I was getting blood on my comforter, but I couldn't find it within me to care. The vodka was making me feel a bit dizzy, or maybe I was losing too much blood.
"Phil?" I froze as I heard Dan enter the apartment. His voice stole the bubbly feeling I my stomach. Hearing him call my name made the feeling rise to my chest, an unbearable tightness. I couldn't breathe. "Phil are you here? Just got back from dinner," he knocked on my door.
"Yeah I'm here!" Was I? My voice sounded wrong, like I was wearing headphones or earplugs.
"You okay man? You're kind of slurring in there," I heard him test the door knob. I gathered tissues and tried to clean myself up a bit. I hid my blades back in my wardrobe and pulled a big hoodie of my head.
"Yes, Dan," I replied in my most patronizing voice. "I am not slurring," I stalled as I tucked the vodka bottle away "See," I said pulling the door open quickly. Dan jumped back in surprise, and then frowned at me.
"You look pastier than normal. You sure you're okay?"
"Dammit Dan! I said I was fine! Just drop it!" I snapped at him. I hated being mean to Dan, but he couldn't find out the truth.
"Are you drunk?" He asked, looking confused. "It smells like a vodka factory in here," I peeked around me.
I opened my mouth to reply but got distracted by Dan's expression. I followed his gaze to the floor where two small drops of blood had landed. "Are you bleeding?" He asked quietly, looking confused as hell.
"No. Well yes, I am but it's fine," Panic settled deep into the pit of my stomach. I quickly gathered clothing from my wardrobe, y eyes zeroing in on my little box of blade. "I just fell earlier. I'm going to take a shower," I muttered, pushing past
I slammed the bathroom door, effectively cutting off anything Dan had to say. Blood was still oozing from a particularly deep gash on my wrist. I suddenly felt light headed and sick. I was losing too much blood, and that scared the shit out of me. I thought about ended my life all the time, but not like this. Not now.
I got into the shower, watching blood stream down my body and go down the drain. The water under my feet was a sickly orange color. Eventually the blood stopped and I stumbled out of the shower, feeling lightheaded and ashamed.
I shuffled to my room quickly, grabbing a set of clean sheets on my way. Dan muse have been watching TV in the living room. I pushed my stained clothing to the bottom if my hamper, followed by the dirty sheets cleaning up the last bit of evidence. I didn't feel like dealing with Dan's questions, so I climbed back into bed, wincing in pain. I buried my face in a pillow and groaned. I wasn't experiencing the normal high I got after I cut. I just felt guilty and sick to my stomach. I stared at the bottle of liquor I left on the floor, noticing that I hardly made a dent in it. I took a swig and walked to the window, staring at traffic below. Cars were still whizzing by. Everyone had somewhere to be despite the late hour. The city lights where actually beautiful from this angle, but looks have a history of being deceiving. Under the pretty city lights someone was being stabbed, or raped and even killed. Someone somewhere had worse luck than I did. I walked away from the window; my dark thoughts weren't helping my mood.
I lay in bed, drinking my vodka and listening to Dan quietly move around the apartment. I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep, the image of Dan's anxious face stuck behind my eyelids.
"Phil! Phil goddammit I swear if you don't wake up this bloody instant I'm going to…" I woke up to being shaken violently, Dan hovering over me.
"Dan! What the hell?" I asked groggily blinking up at my roommate. Even when he was terrified and furious looking, he still managed to look adorable. Stop it Phil.
"I could ask you the same damn thing, Phil! What the fuck is that?" Dan was gesturing wildly to my left arm. My shirt sleeve had ridden up, exposing cuts and gauze that covered the more serious injuries. I pulled my arm to my torso, tucking it under my covers. No, no, no. This can't be happening. Now he's going to think I'm crazy. When Dan leaves I won't have anyone. He's going to hate me for not telling him.
"It's nothing, Dan. What are you doing in here anyway?"
"Don't change the fucking subject. I just came in to apologize for earlier, when I saw that!" Dan's face was white as a ghost, his eyes the size of saucers. "I thought…I thought you were dead Phil," Dan's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry I scared you Dan," I said honestly, fighting back my own tears now. I couldn't stand to see him so upset.
"Why did you do this?" He asked, pulling my arm toward him. I gasped in pain as his hand made contact with my elbow. His eyes narrowed instantly. "Take off your hoodie. Show me the rest," My shoulders slumped as his voice broke off. Reluctantly I stripped down to my t-shirt, exposing thick chunks of gauze with several cuts peeking out. Dan peeled off the cotton bandages, making me wince. It hurt terribly. Hundred of cuts covered my arms. Some of them were old and turning a white-ish color, others were still bright red. One was particularly deep, right on my wrist. My breathing sped up as Dan stared down at the damage. He looked absolutely shocked. His eyebrows were pinch together, and his lips formed a little 'o'.
"Oh Phil, what have you done," Dan asked softly, holding my hand in his. Tears were falling freely now from both of our eyes. Dan gently ran a finger over a particularly deep cut, his breath hitching suddenly. "Phil…you weren't trying to.." He was struggling for the right words to say, but I understood what he meant.
I remained silent. I trusted Dan with just about anything, but to admit I was suicidal... I just couldn't do that. Many people, including Dan had this idea of who I was. He thought I was sweet and innocent, and ultimately a generally happy person. I had already ruined that image enough already. Besides, Dan would probably feel obligated to have me sent away...
"Phil?" Dan was waving his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention.
"Huh?" I looked back up at Dan, but was unable to meet his eyes.
"How long have you been doing this?" I thought back to the first time I had fucked up. I was sitting alone in my room when Dan brought home a girl. Their enthusiasm made me feel so alone. The fact that she could have him and I couldn't killed me. I ended accidentally injuring myself…that was when I discovered the rush. After that I started doing it on purpose. At first just giving myself little bruises was enough. Then I started burning myself with my straightener. Then I started using pieces of broken glass to cut myself.
"A while.." I said vaguely. Dan scowled, becoming visually frustrated.
"I need something more exact that a while, Phil!" He was yelling now. I pulled my arms tighter to my torso, and squeezed my eyes shut.
"I'm sorry," I squeaked, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Two months," I said quietly, my eyes still closed. I wished he would just leave.
"Why?" Dan asked softly, I chanced a look at his face. He was now sitting next to me on the bed, leaning toward me. His face had softened, no longer angry. I breathed deeply, trying to loosen the tension in my shoulders.
"I..." I couldn't find the words to explain this. It was a fragile situation.. One word too many and I could be on my way to an asylum.
"You can tell me Phil. I just want to understand."
"I just feel so upset.. All the time. It's like there this crushing feeling in my chest, like I've been punched and haven't been able to catch my breath." I sighed, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. "Cutting," I frowned at the world. I had never considered myself a cutter until that moment. "Relieves that pressure for a little while. You wouldn't understand," I sighed.
"I had no idea you felt that way. Why didn't you tell me what was on your mind?" His expression was heartbreaking, I felt worse that I even had before. "I thought you trusted me."
"I do!" I could tell he didn't believe me.
"Phil I need you to tell me what you were trying to do..." He held my hand captive, his eyes lock on my disruptive flesh.
"I just wanted to feel better," my voice broke, and uncontrollable sobs overtook my body. Dan pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around my torso in a gentle embrace. I sobbed like a small child, staining Dan's shirt with my tears. When his shoulders started to tremble also I lost it.
"I'm so sorry, Dan." I sobbed. "I just felt so alone, and once I started I couldn't..I could st-stop." I pulled away from him, missing the contact instantly. "I didn't mean to make you upset too," Every one of his tears was my fault. I had never thought Dan would react so strongly to this..
"What did you use? This has to stop, Phil," he was begging me with his eyes. I wanted to show him, help him make me better, but he would be taking away my crutch... The only thing I could really depend on.
I stared down at my arms; the skin would never heal completely. I would have to walk around the rest of my life a freak. I still wanted to die.
"I can't help you if you won't let me, Phil..." Suddenly I was angry with Dan. Who was he to take away the only thing that made me feel alive?
"I don't want your help," I snapped quickly, shocking both of us. "Just leave me alone." I stood quickly and push open my bedroom door, gesturing for him to leave.
"YOU ARE KILLING YOURSELF, Phil! You will die if you keep doing this." He stood up, and stalked toward me.
"You don't have to act like you care, Dan. This has nothing to do with you." Dan laughed a dark, cruel sound. A smirk played at his lips.
"So what happens when I come home one day, and find you dead on the floor, face down in a puddle if your own blood?" He questioned, closing in on me like a predator. "Who is going to comfort me when I'm forced to go to my best friends funeral, Phil?" He shook my shoulders roughy. "How the hell do you expect me to just go on without you?"
Fat tears rolled down Dan's cheeks. "I couldn't," he said a devastating sense of finality in his voice. "I-I just.." His voice broke off as heavy sobs shook his body. I pulled him into a hug, softly rubbing circles on his back as he did for me.
"I'm sorry Dan. I'm so so sorry," he clung to my shoulders, sobbing into my neck like a child would.
"Phil, I know-" He bit his lip, staring me straight in the eye. "I know you don't feel the same, and that's fine... I just care about you alot.. I would be completely lost without you. When I saw you just laying there, with all those damn cuts in your skin I panicked. I thought I missed my chance to tell you..." He trailed off, looking uncertain.
"Tell me what?" I bit my lip, studying his dark eyes for answers.
"I love you Phil," he blurted out quickly. I frowned in confusion.
" I love you too, Dan," I didn't really see why this was such a big deal. Dan wasn't always the most affectionate friend, but I knew he cared.
"No Phil, you don't understand. I love you. As in I'm in love with you."
"But you're straight, Dan," This didn't make sense. Maybe I really was dead and this was just a weird version if the after-life.
"I don't know if I'm straight or gay, or whatever. I just know that whenever I'm with you I can't think of anything else. All I can do is smile like an idiot, because everything you do amazes me. I'm in love with you Phil," he finished finally.
I smile up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He held my waist, gently pulling my body to his. "I love you too, Dan. I always have," I whispered, admiring the gorgeous smile that spread across his face. He was so beautiful.
"I'm going to kiss you," he whispered quietly, smiling ever so slightly.
"I'm not going to stop you.." I replied. Suddenly Dan pulled my body flush against his and softly pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved softly together, shy but gradually increasing in intensity. Dan's body felt hard and strong, but warm and comforting simultaneously.
His hands began to wander for their position of on my hips. My entire body tensed and his fingers touched the bare skin of my back. Dan stilled also, and he suddenly looked confused again.
"Phil...?" I closed my eyes shut. I knew exactly what he was feeling. Raised bumps from cigarette burns, long thin scars from belt lashes, the mass of scar tissue where he broke the glass bottles on me. "You couldn't have done this.." I leaned my forehead on Dan's shoulder. My body felt heavy, my brain fuzzy.
"I need to..sit.." I'm muttered as I fell gracelessly to my bed. Danu followed me, looking intense with worry.
"What is it Phil? How can I help?"
I took several deep breaths. "There's a little black box in the bottom of my wardrobe... Get rid if it.. Please," I said quickly, wanting him to leave. I stared at him as he rush to the cabinet, willing my vision not to go fuzzy.
"I'll be right back," Dan gave me a reassuring look before rushing out of the room. My head fell into my hands once the door clicked shut. I had never wanted to die more than that moment.
I didn't want Dan to be involved in my pain. I didn't want him to see my misery. I loved him. I truly did, but I didn't believe him when he said the same to me. Maybe it was his odd way of trying to help me. Maybe he saw the feelings I had for him, and felt guilty. My shoulders shook with more silent sobs, but I couldn't stop them.
I had never thought of living past this. I never thought of waking up in twenty years and having to stare at my mistakes every day. I didn't want to deal with the stares once the weather warmed up. I didn't want to want to have to explain to anyone I ever wanted to be in a relationship with. I would always be trapped in the past, waiting for scar unhealed scar tissue to mend.
I jumped when felt Dans hand softly rub my back. I hadn't heard him come in. I closed my eyes when his hands migrated to my neck, gently playing with my hair. I leaned my head in his shoulder, hoping to relieve its horrible ache.
Dan smelled amazing. Like fresh linens and chocolate. He wrapped his arm around me, resting his hand on my shoulder. I bit my lip at the pain this simple embrace caused. Emotionally and physically.
I wrapped my arms loosely around Dans waist when I noticed he was crying. "I'm so sorry, Dan," I whispered into his chest. Committing the feeling of having him in my arms to memory.
"I know Phil," his voice was thick with emotion. He couldn't fake that. His concern was genuine. I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to love me like I loved him.
"Did you look in the box?" I asked quietly, knowing he did.
"Yes," he said, pulling away so we were face to face. "Phil...I'm scared," I gave him a questioning look. About which part? "Tonight you stopped soon enough... What if there's a next time..and you don't. I'm scared that if I leave you tonight I'll never see you again. I'm afraid you're going to try and leave me."
"Suicide," the word stuck in throat. I had never put it into words. We both winced. "You're afraid that I'm going to kill myself," I clarified. He nodded, staring down at his hands.
"Dan do you trust me?" I asked quietly. He nodded quickly. "Trust me that I care enough about you not to end my life tonight."
Dan leaned toward me, kissing my lips gently. "Okay." He replied, brushing a stay tear from my cheek. "I trust you," he murmured as he kissed the place where the tear was.
"Dan..." I didn't want to ruin this moment, but I needed to know what was really happening. "I know you care about me, but.." I couldn't find the words.
Dane's eyes lowered, and sadness overcame his expression. "You don't feel the same about me," he stated, his shoulders sinking.
"No! Dan, that's not what I'm saying! I do love you. I just don't think you love me," my voice cracked like no other at the end of my sentence. "I just couldn't handle it if you woke up tomorrow morning and didn't feel the same..."
"Are you done doubting me now?" There was an edge to Dan's voice, and annoyance in his eyes. "Because it's hurting my feelings." I bit my lip, upset that he was angry.
"You're not gay!" I blurted, standing up abruptly. "I'm pretty sure you had some slut over last night! Why would you give that up to be with me?" I was shouting now, more angry tears falling.
"You're making this about sex?" He was incredulous.
"Of course I am!"
"Phil you brought someone how last week!" He frowned in disgust, "I know because I fucking heard. That killed me, Phil. Listening to you with him." He stalked toward me, "How many guys have you fucked in the last six months, Phil?" He had me backed into a wall, his face still angry.
"F-four," I stuttered, my eyes glued to his lips.
"You don't get to doubt me because of that, then," he said quietly, licking his lips. "And believe me Phil, I want you," he said, placing his hand on the wall beside my head. He caught my lips between his in one fluid motion. He was hard but warm, and full if need.
I tangled my hand in his hair, pulling slightly. I felt him smile against my lips, causing a smile to spread across my own face. "I love you Phil," he said, cupping my cheek.
"I believe you." Dan smiled brilliantly before leaning in for another kiss...