The pain is screeching, clawing, exploding, and burning through my insides. I cry too much, I cry too little. I feel like Im always crying, but with how I feel I should never stop. And I do. I never thought that I would be able to feel your pain as much as I do. When she sat there telling me horrible things that would effect you and not me, it was like it didn't even matter because it was like I felt them just as strong. You know how in the books if someones lover gets like a fatal wound and then the girl is at home and all of a sudden she clutches her stomach with pain because its as if she feels it too and they share the pain. Well thats exactly how it is. I couldn't believe how horrible things actually are. The good thing is things possibly cant get worse. Oh wait, yes they fucking can because they ALWAYS do. And because I know this fact Im simply distraught with fear of whats going to happen next. I can only take so much. Please don't be cruel to me...
My eyes are swollen from crying, my wrist is aching from beneath my sweatshirt. This time I didn't even watch I just grabbed the razor and carelessly flung it across my skin, tearing and prodding, relishing in the spurt of new fresh blood. I didn't do it with careful, delibrate strokes, it wasn't like art. At all. It was wild, angry, caged emotions spiraling onto my wrist in wretched release. This time the blood wouldnt stop, it soaked through the wash cloth and it fell listlessly on my sheets. I kept sopping it up, adding pressure but the dark cherry juice just became more and more. I didn't even really care. I just want to sit and cry and cry and cry and scream and scream until my voice is gone and my eyes are dryed out and the unbearable self loathe is gone.
Your right...the one person you love more then anything hates you. He thinks your fat. He thinks your slutty. They all think so, they talk about it. They think your strange. How could they? How the fuck could they think this of you? Cant they see how beautiful you are...god, i see it. I see it all the time and for what? Thats it. There is nothing for us here. No one. Not one thing. Not even the thought that they dont talk bad about me can comfort me right now. Nothing can. Because I think bad about me enough to take care of a small country. A silent storm is rattling through my ears and all want is to let go...let go of this bullshit. I thought I might want revenge...but no. Not ever no. I just dont want it to be like this. I dont ever want anyone to go through this. I dont want to wake up every morning looking forward to three weeks, because thats the day I am going to take my life. I dont want to have to sit and hide in my room with the lights off and muffle my crying and hurt and rage into my eyeliner streaked pillows. I dont want them to despise me like I despise me. And I desperately, more then anything dont want them to hate you.