A Horrible Bad Day

It has been a while since I cried myself to sleep.

I don't understand. It's not like I've been building up anything inside me. In fact, I feel like I've held nothing back since I was found out (or I busted myself) about my trauma. I thought I was recovering.

Is this a process?
Was it a rebound?

The trigger wasn't even an outside factor. I was scared by my own image, formulated completely by my mind. Why do you hate me so much?

The image left a sick feeling in my gut and I wanted to throw up. It made me want to cut something. Or hit something. Just to see if it hurts.

At these moments that I remembered how Qie and I used to cry on each other. It's not that I don't have choices, but rather, this is what I've chosen.

To be alone.

Qie doesn't mind when I would cry out of nowhere. Simply by holding my hands, I would crumble into a heap of snot and mess and bawl on her lap while she silently stroke my hair. One of the reasons I love her so much. My princess.
She doesn't ask questions, and it won't be weird between us. Sometimes I feel obliged to tell her because my snot and tears are all over her dress or slacks -an equal trade.
She waits until my tears are dry and then we'll read comic books and I will fall asleep with the feeling of her hand on my hair.

The thing is, I hesitate when I am offered a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen to. I will go on a defensive mode and think, "I don't need anyone.".
I don't reject them per se, only that I don't accept their offer is all.

I don't want to be anyone's pity case.
Much like a friend did to me a while ago but stopped after I told him off.

I am torn.
I wanted to be alone, but at the same time, I wanted someone to be near me.
I wanted to save myself, but I wanted a rescuer too.

I don't know what I want.