The fact of the matter is, I am presently in a very bad way. It's 1:30 in the morning and I lie awake, tears blurring my vision, flooding my face. The thing I want most right is now is a razor blade. I want to slowly drag the sharp edge of it's blade along my slendor wrist and watch the blood trickle out. And again. And again. I want the wounds to be deep, to scar - a perminant reminder of the freak that I am.
I used to be good at sad. I grew up crying myself to sleep at night. Any amount of verbal or physical abuse, I felt I could endure. But I've grown weak. My life is relatively good lately; so much better than it once was. Yet after all I have survived, one little rejection and am left devastated, panting in horrific, deep, empty sobs.
Its not even that he did anything. It's what I did. I fucked it up. Again. Like I always do. Things were going great, and then I made it awkard. He figured out, like all of them do, that I am weird.
The thought leaves me crying out in agony. No one wants me. No one ever has, no one ever will. Not my parents, not a boy. Like a traitorous spy I am without a home, without a country. I don't belong anywhere. I'm a freak. The pure and simple fact is that I will always be alone in this world.
I have plenty of people that love me. I could call any given number of them right now, let them care for me, reassure me. But I am not there problem. It really is all so trivial. There are, in fact, people in this world with actual hardships to face. Besides, no matter how much I love my friends, and how kind-hearted and honest the sweet comforting sentiments, they can't love me the way I need them too. I've been told from a very early age that the hole inside of me cannot be filled. It will only be so long before I fall for someone else and mess it up again. The enevitable. It makes me hate myself. And my friends (though I love them) can't fix it. So I put the phone down, and with much too much sense for action, lie awake, envisioning the blade of the razor on the second shelf of the righthand side of my bathroom cabinet, imagining the feel of it's cool, sharp metal - turning it's edges over and over in my mind.
