About trains and almond coffee

This is a weird concept that i have not seen here, but art is the only way i can express what happened

It was the end of December (as Leonard Cohen sings), just before the christmas break, when i recieved a first message from my classmate.

Three words.

Gonna end myself.

I did what any reasonable human would do - i freaked out. I knew he was on a train back home from a competition with a few other classmates. He sent me a photo of his hand. The red lines on his wrist looked almost like art.

It was two days into the new year, when i agreed to go out with him.

You're my angel, my saviour.

He said as he touched me. I said no. I stayed for a walk though, because no one wants another human to kill themself. I ran home as soon as he said goodbye, didn't even wait for him to get on his train.

I told him he was too much.

I'm sorry. I'll punish myself. I do not deserve you.

He touched me a thousand times more. Spring came. He touched me again. Summer came. And when i looked in the mirror, i didn' t see my body. I saw a body touched by him. I don't remember much of that summer. Just almond coffee that stopped the panic, and counting calories.

It took almost half a year to gather myself. But i did it. And i yelled at him, when another summer came. I yelled until my lungs hurt more than my heart.

I'm sorry.

He was not. So i did not forgive. I left him standing there in the june heat. I bought myself almond coffee. And i got on the train home.