Losing Myself [Dunn/Bam]
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: I started this and I wasn’t sure what I was writing, I’m still not sure what it was I wrote. But I decided it was a Bam/Ryan. You can decide who’s POV it is.
Summary: I’m draining away like blood down the sink.
Losing Myself
Can you ever love someone and hate them at the same time?
Can you ever want to protect someone from all the hurts in the world, while wanting to hurt them?
Can you ever truly give yourself to someone, wholly and completely, while still maintaining a bit of yourself?
Is it possible to give your heart away and not lose your passion for life at the same time?
Sometimes I cry because I don’t have the guts to kill myself, sometimes I cry because I want to kill myself, sometimes I cry just because I can’t do anything else.
When the blood runs down my arm, I smile as the tears drop from my face and mix with the blood, diluting the crimson liquid but never easing the pain. As the silver metal bites into my flesh I wince and curse myself, wondering why I need to do this, knowing that I’m hurting someone, but it’s never myself that I hurt.
I used to use anything I could to escape from things, I’d smoke weed, I’d smoke hash, I snorted coke once, just to get out of the haze of pain and suffering that I thought my life was. All is could do was sit in a corner and rock back and forth, mumbling incoherently and never feeling any better. And when reality came back to bite me in the ass, I did it all over again.
Then he came around, and I thought maybe there was something that could get me out, that if he gave a damn I’d be able to escape it all. And he made a damn good play at that. Thirteen fucking years and I thought maybe I had it all. Until he started to change, until I felt that I was nothing unless I was with him, unless he wanted me with him. I couldn’t live like that, I couldn’t give myself to him completely, because if I did that, I wouldn’t have anything, I’d be his…not mine.
So I backed off, tried to step away from it. I gave us the distance, I put the wedge there and I thought it was to keep myself from going mad. To stop me from giving up my own identity to become part of his. Instead I was giving up the only reason I ever stopped the self destruct path that I was on.
After I separated us, when I walked away, all the feelings came back. I was nothing without him, and in giving him up I’d forever remain nothing. No smoking, no drinking, no drugs could ever make me forget him. I listen to the sound of my own sobs, I watch as my own blood stains the white porcelain of the sink, and I smile again.
I’m losing part of myself every time I do this, just like I thought I’d lose part of myself with him. I was wrong, I was complete with him, without him…without him I’m draining away like the blood down the sink.
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End
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I’ve been like this most of the day.
It’s set to continue.
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Feedback would be nice. Although it’s not required.
AN: I started this and I wasn’t sure what I was writing, I’m still not sure what it was I wrote. But I decided it was a Bam/Ryan. You can decide who’s POV it is.
Summary: I’m draining away like blood down the sink.
Losing Myself
Can you ever love someone and hate them at the same time?
Can you ever want to protect someone from all the hurts in the world, while wanting to hurt them?
Can you ever truly give yourself to someone, wholly and completely, while still maintaining a bit of yourself?
Is it possible to give your heart away and not lose your passion for life at the same time?
Sometimes I cry because I don’t have the guts to kill myself, sometimes I cry because I want to kill myself, sometimes I cry just because I can’t do anything else.
When the blood runs down my arm, I smile as the tears drop from my face and mix with the blood, diluting the crimson liquid but never easing the pain. As the silver metal bites into my flesh I wince and curse myself, wondering why I need to do this, knowing that I’m hurting someone, but it’s never myself that I hurt.
I used to use anything I could to escape from things, I’d smoke weed, I’d smoke hash, I snorted coke once, just to get out of the haze of pain and suffering that I thought my life was. All is could do was sit in a corner and rock back and forth, mumbling incoherently and never feeling any better. And when reality came back to bite me in the ass, I did it all over again.
Then he came around, and I thought maybe there was something that could get me out, that if he gave a damn I’d be able to escape it all. And he made a damn good play at that. Thirteen fucking years and I thought maybe I had it all. Until he started to change, until I felt that I was nothing unless I was with him, unless he wanted me with him. I couldn’t live like that, I couldn’t give myself to him completely, because if I did that, I wouldn’t have anything, I’d be his…not mine.
So I backed off, tried to step away from it. I gave us the distance, I put the wedge there and I thought it was to keep myself from going mad. To stop me from giving up my own identity to become part of his. Instead I was giving up the only reason I ever stopped the self destruct path that I was on.
After I separated us, when I walked away, all the feelings came back. I was nothing without him, and in giving him up I’d forever remain nothing. No smoking, no drinking, no drugs could ever make me forget him. I listen to the sound of my own sobs, I watch as my own blood stains the white porcelain of the sink, and I smile again.
I’m losing part of myself every time I do this, just like I thought I’d lose part of myself with him. I was wrong, I was complete with him, without him…without him I’m draining away like the blood down the sink.
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End
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I’ve been like this most of the day.
It’s set to continue.
---
Feedback would be nice. Although it’s not required.