Nothing but the truth.

8

Everything was well for weeks upon end, at least with him. Actually, he was the only thing that was holding me together. He made me happier than anything. I knew that we had mad a promise to never date, but I was hoping for it to happen more than anything. I knew it was stupid to hope for. I had no idea how bad it would hurt me to hope for this.

Later that night, I sat down in my spinny computer chair and logged onto facebook, just to check things out. I wished instantly that I hadn't. I saw something that hurt instantly. It was a tangible hurt. My eyes welled up instantly. There was a status update. He was now "In a Relationship" I thought I meant something to him. Apparently not. I ran to my bathroom, dropped onto the floor and curled up into a ball. I felt like nothing. I should have never trusted him, or let myself get attached. I was going to be hurt again. This is exactly why I trained myself to feel nothing. No emotions. No love. I looked into the mirror and saw the makeup trailing down my face, leaving black streaks, making me look like a girlier version of the grim reaper. I went into my room, found the black box underneath the bed and took out the blades that taunted me. I went back to the bathroom, sat down and picked up one of the blades. I could see my reflection in it, and all I could see was ugly. I looked down at my gross legs and thought about all the words I was. Lost, alone, fat, ugly, imperfect, unloved.

I don't know exactly what happened that night, but I woke up with those words carved deep into my thighs, and blood on my sheets. I woke up in a haze, and I just wanted to sleep forever, and never leave this cavern of blankets and warmth. But I wasn't really warm, not really. I was always cold. Always. Maybe because my life had been sucked out of me and I was no longer really living, so there was nothing to warm me. I went to school, pretended I was okay, came home, went to dance, fell asleep and repeated. For weeks.