Catharsis

Carnival of Rust

!WARNING! - Just a warning that this part references to thoughts of suicide.

Part of me wishes that I'd never met her, wishes that he had never introduced us. Another part of me hates that I fell for her, hates that I want to be her only care in the world.

Sitting and watching her almost every Friday, missing her hugs throughout the weeks. Sitting on her lap and wanting to stay there forever, laying across her and wanting more.

Remembering the way she made me feel, the jealousy I felt when she began talking to him. The rumours of them dating, but her denying it gave me hope.

The feelings of excitement at the thought of seeing her again after so long, the nervousness at the thought of telling her how I felt. All that being trampled when she tells me she's officially dating him, the happiness in her voice when she talks about him.

Weeks pass and I thought I was fine with it, but seeing a picture of them together makes me want to rip my heart out and set it ablaze. Hearing her mention kissing him makes me want to cry.

So I cry alone in the dead of night when there is nobody to hear my sorrow. I stand in front of the mirror and stare into my own eyes, stare and wonder why I bother. I'm not good enough for anyone, not myself or her.

Days roll by when I'm fine and others come around and I catch myself eyeing the pocket knife on my window sill, glancing at it and hating myself because I'm not strong enough to pick it up. I'm not strong enough to put it to my skin and leave marks there that will make her hate herself for what she's done to me, for not seeing how I feel or seeing it and not caring enough to stop hurting me.

One day I'll be strong enough, maybe then I'll write down all my feelings with the blood the flows through my heart, write her name and make her cry.