You Changed Me

Number 5

When one is ruined, they seek out something to numb the pain. When one is broken, they look for the blood that creates them to put them back together. Maybe for some it's family, but for me it was literally my blood and the pain that was created in the process of splitting open my veins. Every time i think of the way i mutilated the only body I'll ever have, I think of how i rarely actually opened those veins, and how i rarely created scars. I think of how the fact that i wasn't strong enough to actually open up those veins, and watch the blood spill out of me. It could make me weak to some, but in my eyes I feel as though it was a sign that i wasn't in enough pain to kill myself. And considering the fact that I no longer had a social life which means i have no one else to talk to about my problems, I'm pretty strong. I kept thinking about how five years from now it would all be over and I would be a bigger person . I would be an adult. and I would be proud of who I had become.

____

I met him through a friend. The funny thing was she had actually had a dream about us being together. She showed me a picture of him and I just felt.. right. Im not saying that that picture was actually him, because I'm not sure that the picture she showed me was his. I think it was a connection in my heart. I just knew, and I'm not sure that makes any sense at all but it does in my head.

After she showed me his picture I immediately added him on Facebook, and we immediately hit it off. He became my best friend. And I'd have fallen off a cliff to make him happy.

Because I'm an awkward teenage girl, I asked him about a "guy" that I liked and how to tell him I liked him. He asked in the most polite of ways to talk to him for me. I told him he couldn't because he knew him. Of course he asked who it was and I made up tons of excuses until he figured it out. He told me over Facebook in a way I imagined would be a whisper:

"I think he maybe likes you too..."

"You think?" I replied, blushing behind my computer.

"He thinks you're the most beautiful girl in the world."

We had both clicked and we had both fallen for a picture behind a screen. I fell for a picture with long black hair and gorgeous blue eyes, and he fell for a girl with long brown hair and awful brown eyes with braces and no hope on earth.

He told me his entire life. He told me how he left his home and lived in an apartment with his brother. He told me how him and his mom didn't talk. He told me how he loved Nutella and it made him feel better when he was in pain. He told me about his addictions. His friends. His hopes. And how when he was younger, he used to put on a towel and jump off the deck to see if he could fly.

I found myself loving that boy who thought he could fly.

And so I told another girl. And she friended him. And they got close.

And then my parents took him from me.

As I take it... they ended up together. She hurt him badly, but while they were together, she told him awful things about me. How i was fake. I wasn't fake. So I talked to him one night, and he rejected me. He hated me.

And I hated myself.

I cut. And I bled. I bled so hard I couldn't feel myself think. And I cried. And I thought of him every day.

He's gone now... The boy who thought he could fly. He's married. And he has kids. And those kids are beautiful and I would take them in a heartbeat.

I was mad and so was he. And I think it was our madness that held us up. But that madness isn't helpful if I'm not there to balance out his. And he fell. And I fell. Madly out of love.