You've never actually been called names. You're your own demons. You tell yourself that you're ugly, fat, and don't deserve to live. "You're the bitch," you say to yourself, "you're the bitch and you need to fucking die!" Then you think, "Well I'm not wrong..."
You notice the things changing around you; you're best friend stops telling you her secrets, you're mother yells at you more than not, your grades are dropping. And of course your boyfriend is oblivious to the fact that all you want to do is die. You write it everywhere, "Kill me please, I want to die, PLEASE!" Yet no one knows. You hide it. You hide everything just so everyone is happy. "Why so glum?" They would ask, and your excuse is that you're tired, as always. Your friend made a comment the other day saying that you looked dead, and all you could think about is how you wanted to be dead. The only thing holding you back from downing that bottle of pills is the one you love, your boyfriend, he being the sunshine to your day just by saying hey. And you light up when he tells you he loves you. You can't imagine why such a wonderful person has chosen you. He tells you that you're adorable when you laugh, or blush, or do anything.. And you can't accept that. You are so broken deep deep deep down, that your brain automatically thinks he is lying. It's a horrible place, our minds, tearing us apart from the inside out. You sit there, crying because of pain conflicted by you. Not others. You destroyed yourself. You don't deserve to be happy. Happiness is saved for better people, with better reasons to live. Since you have none, you wish it could be good bye. (Un)fortunately, your amazing boyfriend has kept you here this long. So you shall stay until he goes, hopefully he doesn't.
