I stopped eating. Mum, you noticed, you asked why and I said
"I just feel sick and even the smell of food makes me want to throw up." You persuade me to eat, but I don't. You leave it.
Dad asks you why I'm not eating as much, you say she's trying to lose weight, but it's not helping anyway. I yell saying I won't change myself for anyone. I say I'm fine. But sick. But there's more to it. When you said you know me, you were partly right. But you didn't notice how much more I wear sweaters or full sleeves shirts. Or how much less I laugh. Or how much less I ask for things. Or how my heart is aching every time you say something which hurt me. Or how my crying heart is visible in my eyes, but you don't notice. How I wish I could come up to you, tell you I want you to care and make me feel loved, and cry into your shoulder while you calm me. How I want to feel loved like I did once when I was younger. How I want you to see I'm trying hard. How I want you to say sorry and forget about what the world is saying. How I want to have a dearly mother and daughter relationship. How I want you to notice, I'm trying to stay strong, but I can't keep up on my own. How I want you to run your hand through my hair and make time for me. How I want you to make me believe in myself. How I want you to tell me how much you love me. How I want you to hold me and help me. How I want you to love me like you love my siblings. How I want to be treated the same. How I want you to ask me how I am every single day. How I want you to actually take time and listen to me. How I want you to pay attention to me. How I want you to love me. How I want you to notice me. Have you ever thought, that I don't feel happy, I should ask her what's the matter? Have you ever thought how I felt when you blamed me for everything, how I felt when you shouted at me, how I felt when I looked at the pictures of my child hood, and I see bunch of memories, of you, daddy, bro and sis. Barely me. Like I only existed for a while. Do you ever wander what I might be feeling? But none of it will happen, so I'll put on my bright smile. While my heart hurts more.
Guys I cried so fucking much writing this. This is what I actually feel like.
YOU ARE READING
Life Full Of Sorrow
Short StorySad. Pain. Cuts. Tears. Nothing. Emotions. This book is a book in which I write to express my feelings, I have a lot of problems which make me depressed and nobody knows about it. Like they say, sharing with a stranger is better than your closest fr...
