resurrect my sins {joshler}

entry: 10/31/16, tyler

josh anxiously cracks open tyler's diary again, this time curled under his covers with a flashlight. he wants to know more, needs to know more. if he wants to help tyler, (and believe him, lord, he does), he needs to learn more.

no matter how much it hurts.

this entry is from last halloween. with a knot in his stomach, he begins to read.

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hellø diary. its halloween again.

i used tø løve this høliday, with cøstumes and candy and scary møvies. nøw the scary thing is living in fear, and nøt being able tø think abøut schøøl withøut thinking abøut Him.

i dønt think Hes tøld anyøne yet, and i havent heard anything abøut it. sø maybe itll stay that way. its been abøut a week nøw, i think. time has pretty much abandøned me. it døesnt seem real, and neither dø i, if im being hønest.

im sure He has fun halløween plans with jøsh and His grøup øf halfwits. i bet theyre gønna have sø much fun høøking up with forgettable girls that they løve før the night.

did He løve me that night? hardly.

why are they alløwed tø have sex and be careless withøut getting flashbacks and panic attacks? why døes He get that privilege? has he already førgøtten me? am i really that unimpørtant?

i shøuldnt be surprised, i knøw, but i still am. an øptimist til the end.

i wønder if He thinks abøut me, and what happened. am i alløwed tø think that? i cant støp thinking it. this brain never støps.

i cant støp thinking abøut brick walls and catcalls and bruising and løsing and being left tø røt.

i cant støp thinking øf being punched and thrøwn intø that alley between the CVS and the liquør støre. nø amøunt øf bandaids or vødka can heal me thøugh. ive tried.

but after thøse punches sunk in with cracks and screams and my ribs were cøvered in bruises, He wøuldnt støp. i tøld him nø, i think. maybe it was in my head. maybe He just didnt care. maybe im just nøt wørth caring abøut.

i remember it like a møvie playing øn repeat, an incessant reminder øf my shame.

røugh fingers taking what didnt beløng tø them, taking my privacy. His entirety taking what didnt beløng tø Him, taking my virginity. its all His nøw, he støle all øf me, but i dønt knøw if i want it back.

why wøuld i? whats left øf me anyways? memøries øf an aggressive bøy førcing Himself øn a weak bøy, a bøy nøbødy wøuld miss? a pain that felt like the weak bøys søul being tørn apart and buried in frønt øf him? an agøny that still haunts him, bøth physically and mentally? whats that wørth?

what am i wørth? nøthing.

my existence is a desølate canvas øf disregard and disinterest and dishønesty.

ive learned øne thing that takes away the pain He caused. the pain that i cause.

its just a blade frøm an øld razør, but it tears my arms up. its mesmerizing, the bløød pøuring øut, the cølørs im full øf. i dønt really need tø shave anyways.

when i hurt myself, He cant dø it. im safe. its my way øut.

i dønt knøw høw much lønger i can live like this. my life isnt mine anymøre. its nøt even a life. its fear and lies and ache and isølation and grayness. its a perpetual stømachache, its the feeling after a failed suicide attempt, its my feet dangling øff a røøftøp. i fall sø easily.

sø yeah. i høpe jøsh has a great halløween. i høpe He gets fucked up the ass in a dark alleyway.

gøødnight x

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"Him" again. but now with a violent wish attached. not undeserving, though.

josh remembers that halloween. it was awful; it was just a lot of cheap beer and sloppy kisses. and tyler was right, those girls were forgettable. but they were forgettable to josh because he didnt want to remember.

in fact, he was trying desperately to not remember anyone, especially not a weird boy who sits in the back of his art class. especially not a weird boy with a ratty black sweatshirt and sad diary that he stole. especially not him.

for some reason, josh feels guilty for having a shitty time at that party. tyler didn't even get invited. josh had a more stable life. he should have at least tried for tyler. he should have done a lot for tyler.

but he didn't.

at the party there was one girl, ashley, who had been flirting with him the whole night. she came over to him, liquor dancing on her tongue, and covered him in misplaced affection. its not like she was a bad kisser, but every time those strawberry lips touched his, he could only think of tyler. he imagined his lips pressing against tyler's, something he usually never allowed himself to do. and it was perfect.

but then, while a few would-be-hickeys were placed on his neck, he couldn't hold it in. he moaned the wrong name.

"tyler."

and the egregious amounts of stolen alcohol that she'd chugged had no effect on her hearing.

"who? did you seriously just say a guys name? what the fuck, josh?'

and then he ran. she never told anyone, but she probably forgot. blackout drinking does that to you.

behind brendon's house, josh crumpled to the ground. "why did I have to be like this? why couldn't I have been normal?"

but begging to the rain doesn't solve problems, though. a lesson that both josh and tyler have learned well.

halloween sucks.