Friday, 04 February 2011

• True Story

  Guys. All they do is cause heart ache. When you think you've found the one that makes you happy and who you don't want to be without, he pushes you away, and slowly begins to break your heart. Then he dumps you, and you don't talk to him for a few months, then you finally go see him, and you begin to fall in love with him again. Then you talk about getting back together. He tells you he loves you, and that he wants to be with you, then he pushes you away again. You heart begins to break all over again. He then tells you that he wants to be with you, but not until you go visit him. All while it feels like he pushing you away, and like he doesn't have time for you, and your heart is slowly breaking, and you don't know what to do, so all you can do is cry. You cry for hours on end, and he has no idea how you feel, because you never talk to him. You wish he knew how you feel, and how much he means to you. You also wish you know how he felt about you, and how much you mean to him, but because he's a guy, and guys always hide their feelings, he doesn't tell you, and there is nothing you can do about it. So what do you do, you stay up all night listening to music that reminds you of him, and you cry, and you wish that things were different. You wish that you could be in his arms while he tells you how much he loves you and that everything is going to be okay. Sadly those wishes will never come true. So you cry your heart out day and night. Never knowing how he feels.

  • 10:14 AM
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• Boy You Make Me Smile, But I Hate You

  It’s amazing how much you can really fall for a person, and then next thing you know, you can’t stand them. You thing once you’ve been hurt by that person, you’d want to stay away, but some how, them hurting you pulls you in, it makes you want to be near them all the time. You say you hate them, but you really don’t. You say you never want to me near them, yet you do. And then, once that person stops hurting you, and you think everything will be okay, you suddenly do hate them.
  Lying in her bed thinking about him, made her smile. She forgot that she hated him, she forgot all about what he did to her, but only for a second. Her smile quickly vanished as she remembered what he did to her as she remembered what he did to her. After everything he put her through, it was a wonder she still thought about him at all. He hurt her over and over again, he fucked around with her best friend, and all while telling her he lover her. She wasn’t going to hurt herself over him, or that’s what he thought. He never would have too her for the suicidal type, but apparently there’s a lot her didn’t know about her. She never would have thought she would be suicidal either, but having you heart broken over and over again does crazy things to you. She still talked to him, everyday at school, but she hated it. She didn’t want him to now how she really felt, so she kept up the charade that everything was okay. He seemed to believe that charade, and that was all she needed. He never saw the band-aids on her arm, he never saw the sadness in her eyes, and she wasn’t going to tell him. He didn’t need to know. She was tired of her life, she was tired of him, she couldn’t stand her friends, and she wanted to her away. She just wanted to disappear. She told him she was over him, but she wasn’t. She told him she was okay with him and her best friend, but she wasn’t. She hated seeing him with anyone else, but she wanted him to be happy, and if that meant him fucking her best friend, then fine, that’s the way it had to be. She had to give up o him, she couldn’t keep letting him do this to her anymore. After a while she finally decided to get out of bed, she hadn’t quite decided what to do, but she knew she wouldn’t be leaving the house, not today. This all made her sick, physically and mentally. She didn’t know what to do anymore, she hated crying over him, and she hated him. She wished she had never met him, because maybe then she wouldn’t do the things she did. She didn’t like who she’d become. She changed who she was just for him. She walked over to the mirror and stared at herself. She was disgusted with who she saw. It wasn’t the girl she used to be. She wanted that girl back, she needed that girl back. She had to accept everything that she had done, she had to get away. Everyday people asked about the band-aids on her wrist, and she never answered. She walked back over to her bed and sat on the edge of it. Her heart was broken. She tried to be okay with everything but she wasn’t. She kept telling him her didn’t care, and he believed her. She kept feeding him liked, and he believed her. She told him so many lies she began to believe them herself. Sitting on her bed crying, she grabbed a razor blade off her nightstand. The razor felt heavy and cold in between her fingers. She caught a quick glimpse of her reflection in the razor before she dug in into her arm. Quickly grabbing a blood stained towel from the floor and placing it over the cut, she fell back onto the bed. As she laid there she heard the front door open and close, then foot steps coming down the hall towards her room. Blurry eyed she watched her bedroom door open and close, but she couldn’t tell who it was, until he said something. At first she didn’t hear him.
  Him: hi.
  Her: what the fuck are you doing here?!
  Him: I wanted to see you.
  Her: bullshit
  Him: okay, I don’t know why I’m here.
  Her: then leave
  Him: you’re bleeding.
  Her: yea, I know.
  Him: why are you doing this to yourself?
  Her: because of you!
  Him: me?!
  Her: yes, you. Ever since all this happened I’ve been so upset it’s making me sick. All I do is cry, over you.
  Him: oh…
  Her: yea.
  As she sat up she grabbed a band-aid to cover the cut. He stood there watching her.
  Him: how often do you do that?
  Her: not that often, maybe 3 times a day, why?
  Him: you’re crazy, how can you hurt yourself like that?
  Her: I don’t know…probably ‘cause I’m hurt, I’m alone, and I’m upset.
  Him: I thought you were okay with all of this?!
  Her: I lied. Most of what I’ve been telling you lately has been a lie.
  Him: you always lied to me, ever when you said you’d tell me the truth!
  Her: that isn’t true!
  Him: yes it is. You’re just a big liar and a bitch! And you know it!
  She began to cry, she hated when he yelled at her. He made her feel like she was nothing, he made her feel worthless. It seemed like her hated her.
  Him: I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry.
  Her: just leave! You never cared! Why should you now?!
  As she watched him walk out the door, she collapsed onto her bed crying uncontrollably. After she calmed down, she realise that she didn’t need him, she realised she was over him – finally, and she couldn’t believe how much time she wasted on him. Finally being over him she knew she could move on with her life.

  • 10:14 AM
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• A Million Pieces

  Blood stained pictures, and razors lied around her as she cried. She picked up a razor and dug it deep into her arm, watching the crimson blood spill onto the floor. She could care less if he found her, she wanted him to find her, maybe then he would finally understand how she felt. But, why should she care about him anymore? He obviously didn't care about her anymore, or else he would be here, taking care of her, but, instead he's out with his friends. Yes they were still together, he hadn't left her. But somehow being with him was worse, yet she couldn't bring herself to leave him. She was going to get up and clean herself and the bathroom up, but he found her before she could. He said something to her, but she didn't listen, she didn't even respond. She closed her eyes and waited for it all to be over.
  When she woke up she didn't realize that he was still there. She didn't even remember falling asleep. Trying to hold back her tears she slowly got up--- with his help. Moving into the bedroom, she calmed down knowing that everything would be okay. 

  • 10:13 AM
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• Shattered

  As she sat there staring at the unhealed scars on her arm, and the razor in her hand, she began to wonder what she used to be like. Who she was before the cutting, before the drugs, before the sex, before him, but she couldn’t remember. When the blade touched her skin, she felt a sense of relief, and as the blood spilled out, she could have cared less about the girl she used to be. Throwing the blade across the room, she began to feel dizzy, this was something new to her, but she figured she’d be okay as she leaned back against the wall. All around here were bloody razors, bloody towels, and a blood stained picture of him. She picked up the picture and felt that same tingle as she held back the tears. She wasn’t going to cry over him, not this time, he had done this to her, he was the reason she did this to herself. She knew that he cared, and she knew he hated seeing her like this, but she didn’t care anymore, why should she? He was happy wasn’t he? She was alone, she didn’t have anyone, her heart was shattered into a million pieces, she was completely destroyed, and all because of him. When she got up to call her mom, there was a soft knock on the door. Wrist still bleeding, blood running down her hand, she went to answer the door. When she quietly swung the door open, he was standing there, pale and alone.
  Girl: hi?!
  Boy: hi.
  Girl: what are you doing here?
  Boy: I wanted to see you.
  Girl: why?
  He looks down at her still bleeding wrist.
  Boy: what have you done to yourself?!
  Girl: you made me do this, you destroyed me!
  Boy: I’m sorry.
  Girl: where is she anyway?
  Boy: we broke up.
  Girl: oh, that’s why you’re here.
  Boy: no...well sort of, I wanted to see if you were okay.
  Girl: well I’m not!
  Boy: I know, and I’m sorry.
  They both stand there staring at each other, nether know what to do.
  Boy: I never meant for this to happen.
  Girl: oh?! Then why did it?! Why was I the one left alone and destroyed?!
  Boy: I’m so sorry.
  She began to cry and collapsed on the couch.
  Girl: I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over you again, but now I’m, crying.
  She tried to calm down, and realised that he wrist was still bleeding.
  Boy: let me help you, your bleeding
  Girl: no, I’m fine, I think I can take care of myself!
  After a long silence, she went into the bathroom to clean up a little. When she came back out he was sitting on the floor.
  Boy: are you okay?
  Girl: no, but I’m not bleeding anymore.
  Boy: I still love you.
  She stared at him with a wild, yet hurt look in her eyes.
  Girl: if you still love me, then why did you leave me?! Why would you destroy me?! You knew what I would do!
  Boy: I thought you didn’t love me. I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.
  Girl: so instead of talking to me, you decided to leave me?! I have been scared everyday, that it might be my last day, but I couldn’t stop, I had to keep hurting myself.
  Boy: you didn’t have to keep hurting yourself, you could have stopped.
  Girl: everyday I thought about you, every second I thought about you .
  Boy: I know, and I’m sorry.
  Girl: ugh! You don’t get it do you?! I love you! I’ve never stopped loving you, for 3 years you’re all I’ve thought about, I don’t sleep, I cut myself, do drugs, and sleep with random strangers, all because of you! You destroyed me. My heart is shattered into a million pieces because of you!
  Boy: I’m so sorry.
  Crying uncontrollably, she collapsed into his arms. After a few minutes her breathing slowed, and then stopped all together. She died in his arms. She died with the one who destroyed her, and the one she loved holding her. Her mother came by later that day to find them both dead on the living room floor. She died due to loss of blood, and he died of overdoes. He killed himself an hour after she died. He had gone there to tell her he wanted her back.
  You never know what you have until its gone.

  • 10:13 AM
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• Scarlet

  As I stare at the words written on the page, they seem to bleed, and wash away with my tears. I remember that final look you gave me, that piercing glare you gave me will be burned into my mind forever. I am never going to forget the hatred you felt for me, and I am never going to forget you.
  Standing in the shower, I press the blade into my soft skin, and the pain tingles up my arm. When I pull the blade away, my scarlet blood surfaces, and runs down my arm. When I look down at the floor, I see drops of blood, but they are washed away by the hot water. I put my arm under the stream of water, washing my blood away, but it never seems to go away, my blood keeps coming, spilling out of my numb cold body. As I lean against the wall, and slide down till I am sitting, black tears start to stream down my face. No matter what I do to stop the bleeding, it won’t stop. Eventually I give up trying to wash my blood away, and just let it fall. My arm is soon covered in my scarlet blood, and black tears keep streaming down my face, and I cannot stop either. There is no way to stop the tears, and I don’t want to stop my blood from spilling out of me, Both my wrists will now be scared, and mangled forever, and I smile at this thought. Knowing I am hurting myself, knowing I have this power to make myself bleed, keeps me going. The razor blade is my best and worst nightmare, I love it and I hate it. I bleed because I want and need to. I crave the pain I get from pushing the blade into my skin, and watching my blood leave my body. When I’m not cutting, I feel numb, and cold, I feel as if I am invisible. The cuts and scars are like a neon sigh above my head letting the world know I am here. Everyday it gets harder and harder to pretend I am happy. Everyday the smile I have plastered on my face fades a little more. Every time I look at my wrists, look at the mess of scars and cuts I have created, I crave it. I crave the pain, I crave the sight of my blood spilling out of me, but I mostly crave the feel of the blade passing through my skin as easily as a pen writing on paper. I force myself through the day so I can cut myself at night. I force a smile so people think I am happy, although I know they see through it.
  At night I am scared to sleep, I am scared to close my eyes. When I sleep, I get nightmares about the people closest to me being murdered, or killing themselves. When I wake up from these nightmares, I am usually screaming, and digging my nails into myself, and I always have that feeling that something bad happened or is going to happen to the person that was in the nightmare. Every one of the nightmares makes me want to cut, and I do. I feel that if I bleed for every person that has been in my nightmares, they will be okay, if I cut myself for every person in my nightmares, the nightmares will stop all together.
  After every time I cut, I feel weak, and lifeless. My eyes get heavy and my mind goes numb. I don’t move, I don’t speak, I just lie is bed staring at the ceiling. After I cut I’m at my weakest, but also my strongest. I feel amazing, and horrible at the same time. There is no win or lose when I cut, it’s always in between. It’s a love hate kind of thing. I love cutting, and I love the pain, but at the same time, I hate doing it, because I know the longer I do it for the closer I get to killing myself. No matter how many times I think about the fact that I am slowly killing myself, I can’t stop myself from cutting. It’s like an addiction, only worse than a drug addiction. With drugs you have to wait for the effect to happen, with cutting the effect is instantaneous. I don’t cut because of anyone, I cut because I chose to. I cut to feel alive, to feel something other than numb and cold. I don’t cut for attention, I could care less if anyone noticed me, yet my cuts and scars seem to get me attention. Attention was never the reason for cutting, ever. If I wanted the attention I would do something that was worth getting attention for. My intention was never to kill myself, but it is a possibility. I know that one day I might cut to deep, hit a vein, and bleed to death, but that is a risk I am willing to take. If I die, I die. It may be selfish, but it’s me that I am most worried about. I have to do what’s right for me. I do love my family, and I want them to be happy. I can tell that my suicide attempts, and cutting is making them unhappy. I am sorry for making my family unhappy, I am sorry for doing this to them.
  As I slowly stand up, my blood still spilling out of me, I become very weak, and dizzy. My vision becomes cloudy, my head starts to spin, and I feel like I can’t stand. When I collapse, I hit my head, causing everything to go black, and then…
  I am woken up by someone pounding on the door. I yell and tell them that I will be out in a minute. I hurry to clean up the blood. Once I am sure the blood is cleaned up, I quickly wrap myself and my arm in a towel, and head to my room. In my room I get the gauze, wrap my arm up, and then get dressed. I head downstairs and act like nothing is wrong. No one questions me, no one says anything, everything is normal. I am the only one who knows what I have done, and it is going to stay that way.

  • 10:12 AM
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