Starry Starry Night

Starry Starry Night

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    Parts 3
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing14m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Feb 28, 2022
Since when did it ever it become okay to ignore what's important? Easy. It isn't. ~ Bette was just Bette. She didn't mean to get into half the things she found herself falling into. Honestly, she could've sworn that she was actually a half-decent person most days. Because all she wanted to was live her best life and forget the past. Forge herself into something new. Someone better. Because Bette is Bette. ~ It's a foul feeling to be a victim. It's disgusting knowing that things didn't need to be the way they are. Knowing that there was a chance to speak up, to cry out, to run away, to do something. Anything. Anything but become another victim. And it wasn't even her fault, if only she could convince herself of that too. ~ Chester was just Chester. The golden son, the pride of his family, and the only bragging chip his parents can use against everyone else. After all, who wouldn't love a good studious young man whose essentially got a career set up for him once he graduates? Everyone except himself of course. But Chester is Chester. ~ Breathing hard or hardly breathing, it's all the same. Especially when everything you've done wasn't for you. When it was never for you. Never 'really' about you and what you wanted. It was always about them. Always. ~ Warnings: Mentions of SA
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"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

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