One cut. Two cuts

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One cut.

Two cuts.

My boyfriend Calum would never find out.

He would never of dated me if he knew the truth. He does love me. But only the happy person on the outside. What he doesn't know is that inside it's like a living hell.

I have been depressed ever since I was 13. Ever since then it's been like a roller coster than only goes down into the endless pits of hell.

I'm not planning on telling him any time soon.

It's not that I don't want to tell him the truth. Cause I do. It's that I don't know how to tell him the truth.

What if he doesn't understand?

What if he can't cope with the truth and leaves me?

I would rather keep living this lie than to loose Calum.

It would be selfish to tell him. Cause after all him and 5sos have finally made it to the top and I don't want to bring the band down.

I don't want to hurt Calum.

I'd rather keep hurting myself.

Three cuts.

Four cuts.

And finally I bring the razor down my wrist.

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