Destroy Me (Shatter Me, #1.5)

by Tahereh Mafi

My closet is separated into various sections. Shirts, ties, slacks, blazers, and boots. Socks, gloves, scarves, and coats. Everything is arranged according to color, then shades within each color. Every article of clothing it contains is meticulously chosen and custom made to fit the exact measurements of my body. I don’t feel like myself until I’m fully dressed; it’s part of who I am and how I begin my day.

Sometimes I wish I could step outside of myself for a while. I want to leave this worn body behind, but my chains are too many, my weights too heavy. This life is all that’s left of me. And I know I won’t be able to meet myself in the mirror for the rest of the day.

“My opinions,” I say to him, quietly this time, “should not so easily break your own. Stand by your convictions. Form clear and logical arguments. Even if I disagree.”

It’s like there are a million screams caught inside of my chest but I have to keep them all in because what’s the point of screaming if you’ll never be heard and no one will ever hear me in here. No one will ever hear me again.

It’s a strange thing, to never know peace. To know that no matter where you go, there is no sanctuary. That the threat of pain is always a whisper away.

I’ve come to believe that the most dangerous man in the world is the one who feels no remorse. The one who never apologizes and therefore seeks no forgiveness. Because in the end it is our emotions that make us weak, not our actions.

I’ve wanted few things in this life. I’ve asked for nothing from no one. And now, all I’m asking for is another chance. An opportunity to see her again.

I’ve fallen for her. And I’ve fallen. So hard. I’ve hit the ground. Gone right through it. Never in my life have I felt this. Nothing like this.

Love is a heartless bastard. I’m driving myself insane.