I love getting yelled at.

It gives me a reason to be alone.
It gives me a reason to lock my door and listen to music
and be masochistic
and do a jigsaw puzzle because that's the only thing I think I'm good at now.
I love getting yelled at, because I never yell back.
No matter what, I always hold my tongue
take it, and don't give it back.
I love getting yelled at for stupid shit.
Not finishing the laundry when I was sick and in bed all day,
not cleaning up one bowl when I spent an hour cleaning the rest of the house, and had just eaten.
Bad grades, when this semester was the first time I've felt proud of myself for a while,
because I didn't fail anything this time.
I love getting yelled at when really, I shouldn't be,
like when my sister doesn't answer her phone
or when I don't come up for dinner right away because I'm in the middle of a breakdown.
I love getting yelled at.
and made fun of
and irritated beyond belief
and bothered
put down
and forced into things.
It gives me more reasons to lock myself away.

Unforgettable

To answer questions before they are asked: Yes, this actually happened. I can't ever stop thinking about it, and I wish something like it would happen again. Our question is almost always, "Tell me something?" and the answer is always something we randomly think about. Yes, we had Avatar on the t.v. So romantic, right? But anyway, onto the actual memory. 


         The only light in the room was provided by the flashing colors of the tv, dyeing my skin with a rainbow of colors. Avatar: The Last Airbender was playing quietly through the speakers, flowing into the quiet air like water from a glass. Behind us, the blinds were shut tight over the window, and to our left the door was closed as well. Alone in his bedroom, and as it usually is with all teenagers, things had been hot and intense a moment ago. Despite this fact, we were perfectly calm now. Our voices added to the sound of the television, talking of anything and everything, full of questions and answers that only we knew. I could feel him next to me, his body warm and strong against mine, his arms wrapped around my bare waist holding me close to him. We were wrapped in a blanket, curled up into one another with my arms around his neck and our legs intertwined, the scent coming off his skin calming and electrifying at the same time. He kissed me gently, then looked away, as if something had just occurred to him. Suddenly he turned and looked down on me, propped up on one elbow, about to say something. His words died in his mouth, shot down by a wall of shock in his throat as he looked at me, studying my face, my hair. His eyes deep, drinking me in. Despite my complete lack of clothing, his eyes locked on mine, and his right hand brushed my cheek. Silently, I watched his eyes fill with tears, the blue color turned slightly greenish, and I waited to hear what was wrong. He struggled for a second with the words, his hand clenched into a fist, and he looked ready to burst with emotion. 
          "You're just so fucking beautiful..."
          He closed his eyes and I felt his tears on my skin. Warmth and love filled me and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me. For the first time in a long time I truly believed what he told me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful.