the monster.

The monster is killing you. It terrifies me, and you know that. I know it scares you, to a point. You're ruining your life, you're falling apart.
I'm just glad you realize that. Most people wouldn't.

I just read your blog, and you asked "who the fuck was that on your bed". No, it wasn't you. It was your monster you created. Something that I never thought you could create. Something that needs to be destroyed. It's not meant to be here, love.

When you called me that night to come get you, I knew in your voice there was something more wrong than usual. When I approached you at the station, you were standing there like a zombie. I'm not even sure you were aware of your surroundings. You couldn't talk right when you got in my car. Everything was jumbled up in your head and that's how it was coming out. Random thoughts, trying to explain to me what happened, telling me that you needed me and that you just wanted me to take you home so you could sleep. So I did. Except you never slept. You somehow made your way to my room without falling, and got comfortable and fell into my bed. You were here an hour, and the entire time, your thoughts were back and forth. You were explaining all that happened to me, and you were explaining how you felt, and there would be random thoughts and a moment where the real you would surface and you'd say something about the past, something you were aware of. Mostly the "bigger bed" thing. You kept saying things about how you couldn't remember anything, and you felt horrible, and that you needed sleep and all this crazy shit. You curled up, tried to sleep, but your monster was so alive that you couldn't. So we just laid there on the bed, curled up, me terrified and you....well, at the time I didn't know what. There were moments where I thought you were starting to recover, but after a few of those moments fading away quickly I knew you weren't. Even after eating and drinking a little bit you were still out of it. Your eyes were rolling around in your head. Your breathing was off; one minute it would be fine, then it would get really fast, then really slow. You were shivering, but sweating. You kept curling up into me and putting your head on my shoulder like you were just going to cry. There were moments where you wouldn't move at all, and I thought your heart was slowing and you were dying. You looked like someone who was going through some major withdrawals from a hardcore drug. It was like the heroin diaries all over again, except this was only alcohol, pot, and clonopin. Then you showed me the cuts, and I thought I was going to die. Your leg, your wrist, your hand. Then I knew what was going on. I knew you were trying to get out of all this. Escape. But you can't escape. You have to face it. And what really threw me off is that you wouldn't let me go. So I just laid there beside you, wondering what the outcome of all this would be. Occasionally you'd grab my hand, or roll over into me, and I'd just wrap my arms around you, because that was the only thing I could do, all while trying to hold back tears from fear. Because the last thing I wanted was for you to see that you were scaring me.

And then I was in the bathroom with you trying to hide your cuts from your parents after your mother called pissed off. And then I took you back to your car. And I should have NEVER let you go. I should have told her you were sick or something. I don't know. But I should have never let you go. That was my fault there. Because in doing that, something could have happened to you, and I would have never forgiven myself. I know you said that it won't happen again, but when you're fucked up, anything can happen. I'm not doubting you, I'm just scared. I don't want to see you like that again. But I will save you again if I have to. I'm not going to leave you like that.

I don't know what held me together that night, and I don't know how the hell you survived. But I'm glad you did, because I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you. I'm still not sure.

I just hope that you get yourself together, sooner than later. Because you have potential, and you know that. And I'm going to be by your side, you know. I will help you get yourself together. I'm not going to ditch you. Ever.

There's something I want you to clear up. You said "I called a girl that saved me once..."
This was the second time I saved you? What was the first? Because I'm unaware. D:

I love you, Jeremiah Havoc.
Be careful.
I'll be here.