Slide Into My DM

Chapter Six

Megara

After a long day of deep cleaning the apartment, after a hot bath, after blow drying my hair and getting pjs on, I find myself still unable to relax, to sleep. Even with it being a not-so-lazy Sunday, I’m wound. I have done everything I could possibly do; I have fixed everything there is to fix. Yet, I still feel the upset in my heart from Friday night.

Heated mattress pad on, fuzzy blanket over my propped legs making a tent for Nox, I can’t find anything on YouTube to distract me. One hand on my mug handle, I find that I’ve been so absent I’ve let my tea go cold. Biting the skin off my lower lip, I think of how to compose myself.

As @TeaDropsOnRoses, I have a blank message box to @GoghingGoghingGone.

My niceness often gets taken advantage of. I’ve had multiple people call me naïve. In a breakup, an ex argued that I believe in fairytales. My best friend is so coarse, so I don’t have to be.

I’d like to think of myself as a steel rose, but I don’t know that I’m that strong. Delicate as a flower, sometimes, but even I have thorns.

Have you ever met someone that just gets under your skin? Who you don’t even know that much about them – choose not to know that much about them, but you actively dislike them? Somehow their existence provokes you and you have this moment of, just… prickliness.

Sort of like the Pandora’s Box of my heart is opened, and all the negative things I may feel come out. I say things I instantly wish I could take back. It’s almost an out-of-body experience, I feel so unlike myself. Being mean is not who I am, yet it’s all this person gets to see.

And here I think I might be too rough around the edges. Sometimes mean, a bit coarse, without that being my intent. I wonder if people view as an elitist because of certain factors of my life, but I don’t actively try to be.

I do know what you mean about someone getting under your skin. There is someone currently under my skin and every time I’m around them I feel like I have to flex like a peacock. When really, the opposite would be more helpful.

I mean, look at my page! My soul is on this page, showing my true, kind, silly self to the world. Why can’t everyone see this side of me?

… Do you think we should meet?

“Meet?” I whisper.

My eyes frantically dash around my room. “Meet…” I whisper again. “We should meet?” I quote. Facing down, I slide my phone to the far edge of my bed. My head is shaking and all I can think is ‘oh my God’.