Zahrál mi na srdce čepelí

*PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SOUND WHILE YOU READ MY STORY ;)*

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I'm waving at the man outside my window.

He is scanning through the trees.

I'm attempting to attract his attention.

I like him. I think he likes me. He's searching for me in those trees.

I wave.

Instead, he is searching for a girl. The girl isn't me.

I'm depressed now, yet again.

It's uncomfortable watching the man I like put his hand on the small of that other girl's back, pulling her closer to him the same way he used to do to me.

It was always an indication of —"I got you, you're safe with me."

But then I realise— he won't ever do that to me again.

I feel sick now, again—I feel dizzy... I feel like I'm about to faint.

I need my reliever.

My reliever is my wine, cigarettes, and pills.

It fills me with energy, reminding me that, in the end, everything will fall into place.

Even though it always seems to relapse and then that place collapses again like a bridge.

I lift my knee to cry too—since that's all I have. Crying allows me to momentarily escape the harshness of reality.

I grab my notebook to journal. Journalling is good, my therapist told me to journal. But when I journal, I'm not writing about my confusion or what I see through my derealization.

I draw a heart with an arrow piercing it.

I grab my pills and swallow 5 of them without water. Not taking pills with water is a self-sabotage punishment.

As I apply more mascara, I go to stand up...

I collapse on my bed.

I'm dead.

The man I love, who I saw before making love to someone other than me. Stands beside me, trying to awaken me, his tears shed on my face as I lay there, a silent testament.

He stands up and takes the rest of my pills. He collapses next to me, hitting me on the face with his hand as soon as his body meets the bed.

I'm awake now. I wasn't dead-

Now it's my turn to weep, tears falling as I watch the man I dream of lying lifeless beside me.

I grab a sharp blade; the blade pirouettes these abstract lines on my wrist.

I collapse on the ground.

I'm dead.

The man I love, who I saw before making love to someone other than me. Stands beside me, trying to awaken me, his tears shed on my face as I lay there, a silent testament.

He kisses my wrists as he sheds another tear like rainfall. Licks my blood.

He grabs the blade, and now his wrist has painted abstract lines.

He collapses on the ground.

He's dead.

I'm awake. I wasn't dead-

I look at the ground and see him lying there. I kiss his wrists.

I grab the blade and pierce it through my heart. The heart that was destined to be his only.

I collapse on the ground.

I'm dead.

He wakes up and sees the blade in my heart.

He pulls it out and pierces his own heart.

He collapses on the ground.

He's dead.

I'm awake. I wasn't dead-

I see him beside me. The blade is in his chest...

This time I didn't pick up a sharp object, my reliever, or anything that could harm me to escape reality or shadow the visible burdens upon me.

I realised I was doing too much for someone who didn't even care about me, someone whose heart belonged to another.

But, how do I explain to others that he gave me everything he had for me? A quiet part of me still believes he cares, in ways words can't be painted or captured.

It must be a way he plays into my fantasy to find a way into my heart.

Another part, still knows- he died for me because he still loves me.

I'm an overflow of emotions; I can't explain it to anyone~

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Thank you for reading my story! :)

"Zahrál mi na srdce čepelí" means "He teased my heart with a blade" in Czech!

This surreal/dreamlike story is about existential crisis and despair. Isolation and miscommunication. The cycle of self-destruction and how another person's emotions can influence that on someone they love. I tried to portray the futility and emptiness of such thoughts, hence the scenes where they die, and then come back to life. Additionally, the crying of wanting to die is repeated in a way that suggests the tragic irony of their situation.