In terms of addiction 4 months is a helluva long time. I mean, I went 4 months without touching that knife. But when you really think about it 4 months is only a second compared to life.
I hurt myself last night. I didn't want to, but deep down I think I did. Why would I do it if I didn't get some sort of- Some sort of what? That's just it. I don't know what I get out of it besides pain and shame.
The cuts aren't all that deep. They'll be gone in a day or two, probably won't even scar. But the scar isn't important because I know they were there and I'll always know. I remember every single place a knife ever touched my skin. I'll always remember because hurting yourself isn't something you tend to forget. See, it's an addiction and just like any addiction you remember.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To No One
Non-FictionA collection of letters I've written that will never be claimed and never leave the safety of my journal.
