DISCLAIMER; i own nothing. jk rowling owns everything.
I hope you know I love you. I hope you know this isn't about you. I hope you understand why I cannot love you anymore. I hope you realise I am not strong enough anymore. I hope you don't try and help, even though I know I am hoping in vain. But I really hope you fail to help me, because I really don't want to be here anymore.
It would sit in my stomach, my mind buzzing and I'd hate myself. I hate it. Get it out of me.
But no.
Don't bother; a punishment for my weakness. I don't even understand myself, I know it isn't good.
It would sit in my stomach, and I would feel it in there; creeping into my blood; corrupting my tissues; polluting my insides; polluting myself.
Impure.
Vile.
Filth.
It would sit in my stomach, and I know. I know just what would happen.
Wait.
Do I?
I think I just lied.
I haven't a clue what it would do. I just know I can't let it happen. I know it would be bad. I know I can't let it happen. I know it can't be good. I know I can't let it happen.
It would sit in my stomach, as I seal my lips.
No more, I say, no more.
I know I should and I know I probably could but at the same time I know I won't.
Watch me eat, no don't.
Just watch me.
Just watch Me.
Nothing but me and myself.
Imperfect.
To the bone.
'But you don't understand,' Remus told him with a tiresome sigh to his tone, 'I'm not trying to lose weight. I don't want to be this skinny; I have never liked my body. And it isn't about my body in any way.'
'Well fine, I will accept that you are not trying to look like a skeleton, even though you are succeeding at that. What I will not accept is you claiming that this isn't about your body. It very much is; I can see that. I can feel it.
'Moons, you're trying to disappear. I know you are, and you know it, too. You hate your body in more than just the vain sense. You hate what you're body does, and you hate that you cannot control it. I know control is your thing, your essence.
I know it breaks you – losing it. It breaks me, too, if you hadn't noticed.
'I do think there is more to it than that, though, and this is where you can lend me some answers. Because I am close to tears with this frustration I have building up inside of me. I truly don't know why you hate yourself this much. I truly don't know where I went wrong but obviously I failed somewhere along the way in trying to protect you.
'I guess love can't save everything.'
'Love isn't always the answer,' Remus deadpanned.
'No, I suppose not,' Sirius replied with no emotion. He wanted to give up. He wanted to, and yet he really, really didn't. He felt so annoyed at Remus for being so awkward, so seemingly uncaring. That always led to him feeling like shit, however, because he remembered that Remus was the fucked up one here, and should therefore not need to show how he appreciated Sirius. At these nasty times, Sirius' love and comfort and care was expected, not appreciated, and not necessarily returned.
Sirius just wanted to know what to do, so he could say the magic words to Remus and everything would be normal, and his best friend would not be wasting himself in front of Sirius' tired eyes.
Why was all this shit happening? Where the fuck had it come from? Why did Remus only push him away?
One day, Remus would push too far, and Sirius knew that he would just give up caring. Give up on him. And then who would be left for him? Sirius felt sick as a light bulb in his head flickered on and off behind his eyes;
'Remus, why are you not going home for Christmas?' and immediately it became apparent that this question held the many clues to Remus' actions because the look on Remus' face, if only for the split second before his mask covered it, looked absolutely sickened, and so desperately abandoned.
'What the hell is going on, Remus? Where are your parents?' Sirius demanded, panicky tingles flashing hot red up his arms and throat, and a nausea of understanding slowly completing him.
'I don't know,' and Remus could not have sounded more casual, more uncaring, more detached. It was as if Sirius had only asked him iwhether he knew or not if he was wearing maroon socks today, it was as if the matter didn't require much thought, or interest, from him.
The pause before he had spoken told a lot, though. It told of his immense struggle to remain impassive in appearance to Sirius. It told him that Remus was close to the edge of a meltdown of spirit and mind.
'I know how this feels, Remus, so for goodness sake don't hide from me. Say it. You need to say it.'
'I cannot recall to what you are referring, but I am not feeling any particular way. I am just feeling the same feelings I always feel. I am no different. I have not changed. I am just the same Remus, the same as I have been since I was four. Nothing has happened. Nothing has changed. I am exactly the same. I have done nothing different. I never said anything to them. I never did anything to them. Not anything I haven't done numerous times before, nothing new, in any case. I am the same as I have always been. I have in no way done anything remotely different to what I do most everyday. I feel no different than yesterday, or last year. I feel the same. I am the same. I am the same. I am the same. I am the same. I am the same –'
Sirius wanted to stop Remus from tearing at the skin of his arms but something held him back. Something made him just watch as Remus self-destructed in front of him. Perhaps that he had never seen this from Remus, or perhaps that in some way he thought he needed this breakdown. Or perhaps he was just shocked beyond himself to be able to process enough thought to move. Or breathe.
I hope you you know I am a monster. And I am not worth you.
