I am doing this because I am trying to show you even the tiniest sliver of the pain you put me through my whole ninth grade year! And it sucks because as I stand here lying and trying to hurt you I HATE IT JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO. Because I never want to see you in pain, I fucking love you. And I hate that too..I HATE LOVING YOU, I HATE WANTING YOU, I HATE CRYING OVER YOU, I HATE HOW YOU LOOK, I HATE HOW YOU TALK, I HATE HOW YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE ME SMILE WHEN NO ONE ELSE CAN. HOW YOU CAN MAKE ME CRY LIKE NO BOY HAS DONE BEFORE. And I wish I could hurt you without hurting myself in the process but I cant and I wanted you to experience even the slightest pain I felt over you. I mean I almost took my life because of you. Fucking asshole. And you don't even have the courtesy to show me the tiniest bit of freakin' respect. I cant even....fuck....I cant...I cant...do this....just fuck it.
He looks lost and confused after my confession and slowly goes back into the comforting darkness of the woods, sitting down amongst the pine needles and smoking himself into a peaceful oblivion. His friends never cease handing over the joints, they always have his back, they know what helps. And soon he cant feel anymore and everything is "right" again as I'm forgotten. Right....for him. I go back home and I shake out my hair and look in the mirrior at my mascara streaked face and I take off my clothes and run a bath and slide in, downing the pills and the vodka like it's my lifeline. And I slit open my wrists like I am sculpting a painting; the pooling blood and the knowledge I wont have to think anymore is calming me. Pretty soon my eyes shut and then everything is right again. Right....for me.