NINETEEN.

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"You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,
And I don't want to go home right now."

─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

NADIA'S POV:

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NADIA'S POV:

I'm still breathless after he spun me around and the chatter from the rink settles down in my mind, making it seem like it's just Corey and I here. When Corey first offered me his hands I very nearly cried. The issue with being perceived as a strong person who can get through anything themselves is that no one offers me a hand through life's hardships.

I'm thinking back to the spin and smiling with what feels like ear to ear, I'm happy here at this moment. He still has my hands in his holding me up, he's staring at me with such an intensity in his eyes that I can see some sort of feelings deeper than friendship hidden in there. He looks at me with his feelings, I just wish he could speak to me with his words but I understand how it is. As much as it hurts me to admit, it's easier to just not say anything at all sometimes.

I know not saying what you are truly feeling all too well. If I say too little to someone then they won't believe me or can't help me, if I say too much then they will think I need mental help, so it's just better to completely shut down. I keep to myself how much pain I am in everyday so everyone else can have a better time forgetting it's there, but it's awkward there, I sit up and put on a brave face so that my parents don't have to suffer seeing their little girl in such pain.

I won't say this but I'm really not okay. I'm anything but. I feel so worthless and invisible almost. I don't deserve any of what is happening to me, not in a million years and yet I have to sit through everything the universe throws my way. My heart hurts because I'll never be worthy of love, I'm not good enough for it, for Corey.

I hate the physical pain, but the emotional pain is a lot to deal with on a daily basis too. I just want to go back to a time where it was all too late, where I was me again. Im not even mad about anything that's going on anymore, I'm just so fucking done.

"How do you do it, Nadia?" He asks me, snapping me away from my own thoughts before they get too dark. He doesn't specify what but I don't need him too, I understand what he means completely. I can read between the words he does tell me, I find the real words he means even when he left them unsaid.

"I wasn't given a choice." I say simply, looking around me at the ice I once used to love so much.

"How come the one place where you once felt most at home turned into the one thing that makes your whole body quiver with pain?" He questions, and I look up at him, seeing my own damaged reflection in his eyes.

"You're the only person I've met who seems to have the faintest conception of what I mean when I say a thing." I tell him, not expecting him to understand where that saying came from.

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