Borderline

Borderline

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing21m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jan 30, 2019
WpInfo
Fiction
Romance
Sometimes I wonder why people take me for granted. I do nothing but try to be there for everyone, put others before myself. Yet people still treat me like shit. The few people that I truly love; we fuck around and piss each other off but at the end of the day, they're the only ones I got. Trust issues be getting in the way of my relationships because people shitted on me in the past. I barely have a family. Niggas think they know me, but they don't know shit. I barely even know myself. I don't even belong here. I don't know what's next for me. I don't even think I'll be here long enough to find out. What I do know is, you either with me or against me. You either got me, or you don't. You either in my life or out of it. You either live with me, or you won't. I feel like I'm at my Borderline. Don't push me.
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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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