After completely losing hope of ever making friends at school, i decided to follow my brother's lead and do some online gaming. I instantly met people i liked, shared my story with, and they shared theirs with me. After gaining more confidence through an avatar with a perfect figure i'd never have, a friend named Jennifer introduced me to you. And in turn, you introduced a new part of life: love. Imagine this 14 year old girl, faith, self-esteem shattered, desperate to mean something to someone, meeting a guy who was on the edge of severe depression, trying to move on after breaking up with his girlfriend months before. Needing someone to talk him back on the safe side. Telling her he fell in love with his savior..
Whether you were telling the truth at the time or not i'll never know, and i don't think i want to know. All i know is that it didn't last long. Soon you found someone else, god knows why, but i'll always blame myself for not being good enough. Because that, is the purpose of a skilled player. The love was over, but you kept me close regardless, and i took whatever i could get. Cheering you up when one of your flings didn't work out, gladly receiving and returning the flirting i'd receive inbetween each one,
Never having enough time, another chance, before the next girl came along and swept you off your feet, and every time something would sweep me off my feet too, but more in the sense of grotesquely slipping over a proverbial banana peel and landing on my back, hard. Did someone ever tell you what didn't mix well with depression? It's depression.
If you'd ever read this, i'd want you to know that my loving boyfriend is fighting a futile battle trying to convince me i'm beautiful, and amazing, and everything else you said i wasn't. I'd write countless songs, poems trying to put some of the pain onto paper, but it would always come flooding back, a tidal wave of tears and emotion that is told of but should never be felt. I've always been stronger than suicide but i was doing everything to be with mr sunshine. You helped further develop skipping meals, which i remember you encouraged, dropping grades because all that flowed from my pen was poetry that you'd always talk down. It disgusts me that it took me standing in front of a mirror with a small knife, about to carve my name into my forearm, to realise that this was going too far. And that's when, after almost 2 years, i finally managed to leave.
So, how about you? Remember me?
