Idk

Im not sure honestly

I didn't put any names for privacy reasons.

The thing about guys is they'll break your heart and say that you broke theirs. They're liars and cheaters. They'll tell you that they love you then will be gone a flash. They're all the same, but I've learned to accept one, so far. (You can use any name for him) He's the guy of any girls dreams. Shit, even some guys dreams. He was, for lack of a better word, perfect. I know, I know. How can one be perfect? I'm not entirely sure, honestly. All I know is that he's perfect in my eyes. He's the guy that's like the ocean. Always there and very soothing. He could stop a hurricane by talking to it. He has eyes so beautiful, one could believe that he was a angel sent straight from heaven. The contrast of such light eyes and dark hair was, once again, perfect. He had a slight tan, his skin golden brown and beautiful. He has the warmest hands, I'm always having the urge to grab them. Just to feel his warmth radiating from his body. He has a warm soul, lighting up every room he walks into. When I walk into a room, I always search for him first. He's the light in my dark abyss. He doesn't know how much he actually means to me, and I don't think he ever will. Because he's one of them. Like every guy, he has ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it till there was nothing left but a bloody pulp. But for some reason I keep picking up all the tiny, shattered pieces of my heart, and hand them right back to him. You'd think that I would've learned by now. But I keep getting lost in his kindness, forgetting how many times he's hurt me. The funny thing is, he has a girlfriend. And no, it's not me, nor has it ever been me. I don't think I will have the privilege of being able to call myself his girl. That's part of the problem also, I see him as a God, a saint even. I have a tiny cloud over my head, blocking out all the hurt he has caused, only focusing on the good. I don't know if you could call if physical abuse, but he's hit me before. As a joke cause I "pimp slapped" him as he put it. I barley touched him, swear to God. I could never hurt him, no matter how many times he's hurt me. He turned around and slapped my leg. Hard enough to leave a hand print and bruise. He said sorry, that he didn't mean to, so I forgave him. Like always. I always wondered, how could you stay with someone who emotional abuses you? I've found my answer. You believe there's enough good in them to keep giving them chance after chance, no matter how many times they screw up. I've messed up before, but I wouldn't say it's to the extent of what he has done to me. I feel as if I'm playing the victim. I could just let go, to forget about him. But I physically can't. I've blocked him on all social media's, but I still see him every day of the week. It causes me both physical and emotional pain to see him. Sitting there, smiling, not a care in the world. I've told him that he deserve the world, shit I've even tried to give it to him. But he won't take it. He never takes it, no matter how hard I try, I feel I will never be good enough. I've never felt this way before about a guy. It's all so brand new to me, like a foreigner in a new place. I've got no fucking clue what to do. He's just a boy, so that's why I wonder how come I can't let go. My depression has been getting worse. Some days I can't get up out of bed, and if I can it's a struggle. I feel empty without him, even though I know what he's done to me. But even after all the nights I've stayed up crying, and all the countless nights my thoughts have gotten the best of me, I still can't not love him.
Love.
Quite a magical thing. It can destroy you, or build you up into a strong person. I'm not sure if you could call what I feel for him love. The only love I've ever seen was the love between my parents. She waited for my dad for 3 almost 4 years. Some of you might call her stupid. But that's what I call love. That might have something to do with what's wrong with me. I've gotten the idea of my dad leaving and my mom waiting for him would be called love. But would it? Or was my mother an idiot for waiting, when he was the leaving to begin with. So I guess I just have a lot of thoughts going on in my head. What's love? Am I in love? Or am I just a stupid little girl who has a crush? Like I said earlier, he was the light in my dark abyss. In the past 3 years I've went through shit no one should have to go through. I'm only sharing this with you, if anyone even takes time to read this, because I want you to understand the darkness I was going through and why he means as much to me as he does. So, in the past 3 almost 4 years I've lost 3 people.
1: my aunt. She was the toughest women I knew. Cancer took her. And it absolutely destroyed me. She was a second mother to me always there when you needed her. She was one of the most important people in my life.
2: my papaw. His time had just run out. It broke me, but not as bad as my aunt passing did. I was very close to him, seeing him and my aunt almost every weekend.
3: my friend. She was so bright and cheerful. She could walk into a room and it would instantly be happier. We called her smiley because she was always smiling. There wasn't a day that she wasn't smiling. But then one night, her heart stopped smiling, and beating. They found her the next day, dead. Losing her was like losing one of my sisters. I fought through it though. Somehow.
4: my dad. He left and was suppose to be back a few weeks later. But a few weeks turned into a few years. He was missing a good 9 months. We had no clue where he was, hell we even thought he was dead. Even though he had left us, I still couldn't handle the thought if using him.
That's when I first took a blade to my wrist and thighs. I cut, deep enough to bleed, but never deep enough to leave scars. I felt as if it was one thing I could control. I always felt so numb, empty. I just wanted to feel something, anything. Even if it meant taking a blade to my wrist. I don't cut anymore. I felt as if I was seeking attention. No one know about my cutting. Well you do now. Here's where (insert guy name here) comes back in. 7th grade, him and I had all of our classes together. We became best friends, knowing certain things about each other that would consider is more than friends. He would tell the best stories. Stories that would make me forget about how much my life sucked at home. He would make me forget everything. I was finally happy with him. When the world stopped turning he make it turn again. In all the darkness in my life, he was one of the select few that could make me smile, laugh, even happy. I knew I was falling for him. I didn't want to fall, because I knew he had a On again off again girlfriend. But I couldn't help myself. I took one look at him and decided that he should be mine. I wanted him, craved his company even. I started relying on him for my happiness. He was one of the only things that could keep me going. He gave me a reason to keep living. Yes, my other friends kept me going, but not as much as he did.
I use to think about whether or not it would be high enough to jump off the roof outside of my windows. I wanted it all to end. I couldn't find happiness in nothing. Some nights I would go sit on the roof, debating whether or not I should jump. I would sit out there for hours, sobbing. Some nights I scared myself, and I would go sleep in the closet so I couldn't see the windows. To be tempted with jumping. Because if I jumped I could go with my precious family that are in heaven. At least I hope so. On nights that those, I question the existence of a god. I thought about how if there is a god then why would he let me go through all these things starting at age 10. It was so much to handle. Some nights it was too much. I would take medicine to make me go to sleep at night, because no matter how tired I was I just kept thinking over and over again. The same thought going through my head. Should I jump? But with him, I found a reason to live. He made me want to get up and live. But now here I am, him being the reason I can't do anything some days. It sounds so stupid, to let another person to have this much control over me. But he does.
I've recently been questioning life again. Why are we on this earth? Why is there suffering happening? Where's God? It's not the the point of me cutting, but I've been getting the thoughts again. Wanting to die, but seeing a point to life. I don't think it's just (insert dude name) though making me think this way. I think he was just the trigger to all of this. I just don't feel happy anymore. Life feels like it's not enough. And I don't know how to go about telling someone. To get help. All i want is happiness and to feel love. I know I'm loved, but I'm beginning to feel so empty again. Like there's no one here for me anymore. I just need help but don't know how to ask for it.