Everyday, was the same day, but a different night.
I couldn't do it anymore. I had enough. Ramadan 2017. I tied a hangman's noose on the fan. Midnight 3.43am. Stood up on the chair. Put my head inside. Closed my eyes. And on a countdown of 3...2....1....
*notification sound*
My phone was on my bed. Went to my bed and saw that, it was from A. I don't remember what it was but I was glad that someone cared enough to text me at midnight 3.43am. I cried. He didn't know how many times I was crying when I was chatting with him.
But he did save a life.
We became great friends. And I was glad I had him. But I hated it when I said "I love you" everytime after writing "take care, goodnight" and he couldn't hear me.
2018
Anorexia
Starve, crying won't help. Starve.
Whatever I did, nothing made me feel good about myself. Whatever I did, no one acknowledged me. For existing. For fighting against my will of giving up. No one knew about the wars. The pain the struggles the miseries the tears. I was alone.
-You are beautiful you know? You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, you defeat M.
-Never compare your girlfriend with anyone.
He didn't know how sharp those words were to me. Everytime I remembered it I couldn't fight back my tears. I still don't know why I cried. Maybe cause I felt connected and
appreciated.
I self-harmed, cried, and wanted to feel free. But I didn't know the way out. I wanted to runaway and hide in the safest place of my life, my home. I begged. No one heard me. It was hard.
But then.....
It happened.
Thank you.
I love you so much.
