94 Days Without You - Cube SMP ff

Diary

Please note: These pages have been found and collected. Some are missing, please respect the writing.

Day 1

I've had him for 184 days during winter and spring. Now he's gone for 94. I don't know how I will be without him, for this whole summer. He will be gone. I've already cried.

When he told me he was leaving I crashed. I fell into him, and he fell into me. I melted away for hours. No tears fell then, just a lump holding in my throat so I couldn't breath. He begged me not to cry, and I just shook my head. He held me in his strong arms, refusing to let go. No one could touch us, no one could hurt us. He said he loved me. I believed him even though I didn't want to.

He left me there, standing, when it began to rain. He texted me once more saying, 'Im so sorry Kyri, Goodbye. I love you.' But this time I didn't believe it, even though I wanted to. A tugging in my heart pulled, and I could feel the depression from my teenage years coming back.

"No," I would whisper to myself, standing in the now heavy sheets of rain. "No no no."

I was wrong. Yes. Yes he left me. Yes I loved him. Yes I was wrong. Yes I would never see him again.

Day 2

Today, I cannot write, I cannot speak, I cannot eat. My hands shake and my lips quiver. He is gone. I won't ever see him again, and it kills me. I text him without wanting to. I almost called him while crying.

All I know is he hates me for it.

Day 3

I would like to say that it was gotten better with my situation, but it hasn't. I found my blades again. I stare at my scars all night. I don't eat. Yet no one is here to help me. Blood is dripping on my page now. Then tears. The red stains the clear drips falling from my face. I would like to write more, but unfortunately they will be here for me soon. I must go.

Days 4 until 52 have not been fully found. It is understood that she is taken for approximately 8 days, and she is diagnosed with depression again, anxiety, and became anorexic soon after.

Day 53

It will be 41 days until summer is over. Until autumn. Until that slight chance I may see my love again for a day. For an hour. For a minute, or even a second. If I could be held in his arms just once more. If only I could taste his sweet lips. If only he could be mine.

Day 54

Today I couldn't move. It's four am and I have not slept, ate, or left my room in the past three days. He still hasn't called, texted, answered any of my messages, or communicated with me in anyway yet. I wish he would...

Days 55 until 87 could not be found. We have found ripped or crumpled papers, along with tear shards attached to a leather spine with few other full, written pages.

Day 88

I have no message today, still crying, cutting, waiting.

Day 89

There is no point anymore.

Day 90

Four days left.

Day 91

Hoping.

Day 92

Fearing.

Day 93

Today my only message is a poem.

I'm sorry I have not written much the past five days, I have been working on this poem for a while now, and have been meaning to share it with whoever is reading this earlier, but I continuously rip pages out, leaving nothing in between.

Here it is.

He left me that day.

That cold, rainy day.

'I love you,' he told me.

Though he didn't see me.

I knew I couldn't leave him.

Then he left me.

Now I sit here,

On this brown park bench.

Writing you this poem.

And I would like to say my love,

I love you so,

You inconsiderate asshole.

Day 94 could not be found, however we have evidence to infer that nothing more has been written.

We thank you for reading, please don't take much from these writings.