Dear diary
Tonight my heart shattered into a thousand pieces on my bedroom floor. It hurts so much I want to scream at the top of my lungs. So I did the only thing I knew how to do and so I relapsed once again. I did consider calling my friend but I decided I didn't want to be talked out of it or to have this considered as a cry for attention. I also could have called my therapist but she would have thought something was seriously wrong and called my mother. Hope is such a dangerous thing. It builds a person up just so it can destroy them. I'm tired of hoping for things to get better for me.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary
Teen FictionA teenage girl goes through some rough patches in her life and has no one to talk to so instead she writes… in her diary. Her diary is like an escape from the rest of the world. While she writes page after page she figures out that her diary is the...
