The Fat Girl Somehow Stole My Heart

10

Wendy's P.O.V

[Warning: Self-harm content present]

I knew it.

I absolutely knew he was going to break my heart, one way or another.

Just like the others.

Believe me, I knew this thing between us wouldn't last. I knew we wouldn't have a relationship. That would have been a very foolish expectation.

I'm not naïve.

The day he decided to break it off, it would have been expected. I wouldn't even be hurt or anything because it would have been a bound.

That, I was ready for.

But to be blatantly insulted by him, in my face, seconds after we shared a passionately flared kiss?

That I was not ready for.

You know what's worse?

He didn't insult me about my hair or my teeth or something miniture like that.

Nope.

He hit home. He hit home with the wrecking ball Miley Cyrus rode in that relatable song.

"We kissed, I fell
Under your spell..."

Luckily for me, this isn't the first time this happens so woo-hoo.

It ain't the second time either.

The words he said broke my heart. But funny enough, I didn't feel the pain of it breaking.

I felt nothing at all.

Guess I'm used to it.

I sat up my bed and contemplated my next move.

I need to feel something. I need to have an reaction. I don't want to feel robotic like this. I'm human.

I need to feel the pain he has excreted on me and if my heart won't supply me with that pain, I'll find other ways to induce it.

I reached over my bedside drawer and opened it.

There it lay. My best friend. My soul mate. The one who has always been there for me in hard times. The one who never let me down despite the social media protests about it.

My razor blade.

"I missed you old friend, did you?" I whispered to it as I took it out.

"I missed you more." I imagined it saying to me.

I stared at the all too familiar shiny steel in my hand.

Before I could remember the promise I made to myself the last time I did this, I put the silver blade on my arm and cut.

As usual, blood poured out as much welcomed pain coursed through my body.