tearingmytendonsout

[tearingmytendonsout]

Fuck wish I was like a normal 21 year old or something, it's fuckin past 3am I could be drunk right now but I don't drink

i'm just a boring disappointment like all i do is sit in my house with wasted potential and a deteriorating brain, i could be an interesting one drunk in a ditch with a cigarette instead but nope

might be fuckin dead sooner that way too, aint half bad

i know i'd still be unfucked though, even if i was an interesting person no one is coming in this bitch that's for sure, that'd mean someone liked me enough and I ain't attractive in the slightest I know that

[tearingmytendonsout]

what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me what's wrong with me

[tearingmytendonsout]

Hey, it's me again, that person that couldn't keep her mouth shut. I've been doing a pretty good job at it lately though huh? Been holding my tongue best I can cause I know no one really wants to hear me. Right?

Lets be real because none of you have noticed, I know you haven't. Which you shouldn't. But I want you to. I don't want you to. I want someone to see and ask if I'm okay. I'm gonna vomit if someone brings it up. Don't ask it's performative despair. My skin crawls, my stomach isn't in my body, I'm at a Dutch angle, but I'm totally faking it for attention. I'm sitting myself in the corner for attention.

I miss you. I hate it. I hate you? No. I can't hate you, I don't feel hate outside of the mirror. Look at me acknowledge me. If I feel you see me I'll run and hide. Unless you want to hate me, I'll welcome whatever weapons you use against me then. Don't hide it.

Im lonely. Don't talk to me. Don't know me. I don't want to be known. But I'm so lonely. Forget me.

Im speaking through tears because part of me doesn't want this. I haven't killed it yet. I don't know if I want to, she wants to live. But it's suffering to be a part of me, she's been trapped for years now. Killing her would be mercy. Right?

Leaving everything is the best choice right?

Having a connection with others isn't for me right?

Im not human right?

You don't like me you never liked me admit it admit it admit it admit it

I want you to fucking admit so this stupid bitch logic will shut up in my head

If logic is right then we suck even more than we already do

Someone carve a hole into my torso

Someone take my eye

Break my bones

Bruise me

Hurt me please I'm not supposed to have it easy

Hurt me because it's what I deserve

Hurt me I ran from safety and comfort out of cowardice and paranoia

Ive got nothing better anyways

[tearingmytendonsout]

I worked real hard on a few things, I'm proud of them. But everyone didn't care.

A few people did but everyone looked at the stuff around instead. I'm just gonna be quiet. Maybe send a link every once in a while. I don't think anyone wants me there. I think they hate me but haven't realized. Or won't admit.

I gotta stop talking.

[tearingmytendonsout]

I woke up today and felt like I'd wept for hours.

I hadn't though, not the night before or this morning. I felt that hollowness though, it didn't go away for hours.

Now I've got a headache and feel nauseous, I don't want to be here anymore.

I miss my place, all my things the silence the ability to just be me. Here I feel like I'm always looking over my back. I can feel myself dying, rotting away. I have 9 more weeks of this.

I don't know how I'll make it, I can't pretend I'm okay easily anymore. Once you let the bottle open it can't close right anymore. I've been sobbing twice a week at least before bed now. I wept in the shower one morning. I'm so scared I'm going to hear shouting again. I don't know how strong I can be for my siblings anymore, I'm trying.

I'm not even doing anything bad, I'm just trying to do my work but the feeling of my family walking in just makes my skin crawl I can't do it. I can't do anything. I don't want them to see me. Don't acknowledge me. I want to live as little as possible here, my room being the only evidence I exist.

I'm so tired. I've been so tired all week. All month maybe? Well it just started so, I guess so. Please just let me close my eyes. Stop looking. I know you judge me, I can tell by your comments.

And you, stop acting like nothing happened. Like we're fine. I'm terrified of you, you could take it all away from me in a snap. You're ruining my siblings, you've ruined my mom. Stop acting like everything is good between us. Can you not tell I'm hiding from you all day? Then again, you're only one step from being absent in my life anyways. You don't even see me standing right there before turning all the lights off and leaving me in the dark.

I need a drink. Not the alcohol kind, just a nice one. Like a chai latte. They're pretty bad round here but the best one is only 4 bucks so there's that.

I can't wait to go home. My real home. Away from here. This isn't home to me anymore.

[tearingmytendonsout]

Oh. So it worked.

I go quiet and everyone starts talking again. I was right. Am I happy? I don't know. If I wasn't then I'd be an attention whore right?

Yeah, this is a good thing. I talk too much so I need to be quiet now. Other people should get to speak not me. I don't have anything valuable to contribute anyways.

They won't check on me either, they'll just think I'm living my life or something. Good. I don't want them to suspect anything. Well, I do but I'm not listening to that. The voice that wants help yknow? I don't want to listen to it anymore.

[tearingmytendonsout]

"Heyyyy again"

"Of course you show up."

"You say that like I ever leave"

"You know what I mean."

"So we're trying to isolate again cause we're a pussy right?"

"We gotta stop saying pussy like that."

"You're the one who liked having the vocabulary of a 2010s abridged series...minus the slurs."

"Get on with it."

"Gee, so dramatic, fuckin bitch"

"I know, that's the whole reason we need to shut up."

"You actually gonna do it-"

"I am-"

"Orrrrrrrrrrr you gonna quit after the second day again because you just can't fuckin help yourself and keep talking even though you know they all find you annoying and several of them hate you"

"We don't know that."

"Sorry, believe it right? That's what we've been saying."

"There's no logical proof."

"So it can only be a belief, but you know. You've known for a loooooong time, whole reason I'm here! No one wants to hear all that chatter, or read it in this case. You don't like being known and crave it so badly at the same time. Attention whore."

"I don't want attention."

"Mhm, sure. That's why you add a comment to everything instead of shutting your fuckin mouth and not saying a thing. It's so easy to not message but you can't go one day without saying something. No one wanted your comment, no one ever does, you don't even want it. Only way to stop it forever is to yknow, expedite the death."

"The one that can't happen."

"You say that, yet believe it with your full chest it's coming. We're not making it past 23 BET."

"Stop."

"I'm betting the Disney Princess Monopoly money on it."

"Why am I the way that I am?"

"I don't know, is it the autism, the depression, the anxiety, the stress, the trauma-"

"Alright I get it."

"I don't think you do because you're denying it so strongly even though you state otherwise. When it's everyone else it's a big deal but when it's you it's not? You're soooooo special so you get to suffer through it and never fix it. What's the point right? You'll die soon anyways we've established this."

"I just need to be quieter."

"About what? The fact you pick at your skin? The fact you have clumps of hair coming off now? The fact you can't do anything for yourself or anyone? The fact your memory is getting worse daily? The fact you want to isolate soooooo badly yet preach to people never to be alone you fucking piece of shit hypocrite."

"No one knows me."

"That's cause you nearly vomit at the thought of people understanding you. Yknow when you die it's not gonna be some big tragedy that your true self was never known. You don't even know who that fuckin is yourself. You're barely a human being."

"It's better if no one wants me around."

"Yeah so much better, that's why you like being hurt. That's why you crave that someone finally admit they hate you. You want someone to hurt you so badly so you finally feel validated for how horrible we are and you don't want anyone to help you back up because then it isn't punishment is it. You just want to bleed."

"If that was true then it'd be a razor to my body so fast."

"Nooooo because it's not true punishment if you're doing it to yourself now is it. You also missed literally everything I said dumbass."

"...and the worst part is I still wish I had a friend that's going to stop me."

"Fuckin pitful. And they're not coming are they?"

"...nope."

"It's what you want right? You don't want to be remembered. But you do, you want to create and be known for the things you make and love without anyone knowing it was you who loved those things because it's such a crime to be known by people to you. You don't deserve it."

"I don't even deserve to feel this."

"Yeah cause you're white and rich and unattractive to men so you don't get harassed. Though shaking because of your father and getting jumpy at yelling seems to justify it. Hiding yourself from your family 24/7 and being scared you'll be homeless just for showing empathy towards someone your dipshit father hates. Or, I don't know, the knowledge he hit your mom recently and yet everyone acts like things are hunky doory because he apologized for once. You need therapy."

"It's conversations like this that prove why I can't get it."

"Cause we're too self aware."

"Yep."

"We really shouldn't be loved."

"Nope."

"Yet you won't take the steps to make that actually happen will you because you'd lose everything."

"Yep."

"Coward. Coward who loves people too much. That's why you won't just get it over with either. It'd be too cruel to them to do, you know they'd wonder if it was their fault for the rest of their lives."

"They've been through enough, I've been enough of a shitty sister to them."

"Yeah. I can't argue that one. So suffering it is then."

"Until we finally die."

"I'm still thinking it'll be a car crash."

"I hope it's a throat slit."

"Something where we get to really have some time to let that regret sink in truly."

"That'll probably be the first time we'll have the motivation to live since high school."

"Those minutes before we're gone. Forever. Wasted."

"Why do we exist."

"Cause you could've done a lot, but we failed so we'll be character development to everyone else. A stepping stone forgotten."

"I have so much love in my heart, I never got to use it."

"I know."

"I shouldn't have been human"

"I know."

"I don't want to go."

"I know."

"I want to be a person."

"I know...but it's just not happening is it? Might as well let someone else have those opportunities."

"I wish someone would hold me."

"Me too."

[tearingmytendonsout]

I hate myself, at least the me that everyone sees. They vary between people. I like to say my online self is the most me and yet she's the one I feel the deepest regret and despair over when I talk too much. I know she's annoying and unlikable, I don't know why anyone doesn't say it. It's true. She talks too much, takes up all this space, no one wants to hear. She's not funny, she's not creative why won't anyone just say it why am I the only one who will?

And when I do it's always a "no you're not." STOP LYING! IT'S MEANER TO ME TO PRETEND THAN IT IS TO BE HONEST. Stop showing me pity and just agree with me! I'm not a human anymore, stop treating me like I am.

They don't even have the context of when I was, it's been half a decade since, they have no reason to hold out hope. I've got nothing to give anymore I've got nothing valuable in any sense of the term.

I'm a failed artist, a failed musician, a failed writer, a failed student, a failed employee, a failed sister, a failed daughter. I shouldn't exist I know this so stop looking at me, stop acknowledging me, tell me to be quiet because my words don't have any good. Punish me for trying to be a person again, I should know my place.

I can't pick up a pencil to save my life, I can't do studies, I can't draw the things I love I haven't been able to for years.

I can't play, I don't practice except for lessons, I give up on doing better, no one hears it but me when I do.

I can't write, I think of the same things over and over and stumble to write stiff descriptions and when I do imagine a story im proud of it never gets to page.

I used to be a straight A academic, always on top of my work and attentive but now I can barely get myself to do things on a simple deadline and nothing will stick to my head.

I can barely keep with work deadlines, I didn't even do any work for fucking months over and over again. What I put out is absolute shit too and I only still have this job cause of my fucking dad.

Im nothing like what my parents thought I'd become, both because I failed expectations and because I don't believe what they do anymore, if I was truthful is be homeless.

If I were to vanish online, go silent and never speak again which is about the same as never speaking in real life for me, it'd be better. Everyone else would be better, because I shouldn't exist I shouldn't be here. No one wants me here and I know it and anyone who tells me otherwise are lying to me out of pity. Please. Just hate me.

[tearingmytendonsout]

I don't know why it's hitting me so bad this week that I believe I'm going to die soon. Like I can't stop thinking about it.

I believe that. I believe it truly.

Im not falling asleep tonight. I don't know why but something is keeping me awake. I don't want to go to tomorrow.

Please forget me. Why did I do that? They all see me I shouldve just been quiet and not said a word. Attention seeker, you always have been what I wrong with you. Forget what I've made or let who wrote it be forgotten. When you think of me, you should go "I don't know, I can't remember." I don't want to be in your heads anymore I shouldn't take up space.

I hope all my online friends get so wrapped up in their lives offline, doing things and being happy out there that they forget I'm here. I'm glad I was there as a chapter, but I can't wait for the day you forget you even have the app. That you exchanged memes and jokes and vent with me. When you're happy you'll forget me, and thats fine with me.

And then when I do die, there will be a small funeral, not many people know me so they shouldn't show up. I don't exist really, they won't be able to truly pin me for anything when they talk about me. It'll be mostly lies when they do.

I can't die by my own hand. Imagine how my siblings would feel, how my best friend would feel. That would be the cruelest thing to do to them. Seeing them crying at my funeral is worse than anything that'd drive me to take my life.

There's a beach up in Panama City, it's private. I got to see it three summers in a row. I'd wake up at 6am and go out there and walk by myself, taking it all in. That's the most beautiful place I've ever been. I miss it. I miss waking up at 6am and feeling the cool morning air. Watching the sky turn blue, the way the sun peaked through all the beach homes and scattered across the waves on the shore. I wish I could describe what it was like better, I've never felt more at peace than I did those mornings. On that beach.

I hope when Death does come, it takes me there. I want to go on one last walk. We can make it a date. I haven't had one of those. My first date in the most beautiful place in the world on my final day here.

I'll probably cry, maybe Death will wipe my tears. Maybe I'll get a kiss too. My first kiss ever. I like to think Death would be a romantic like that. Or at least would do that for me.

I'll be beautiful too. I just know it. Death will think why did no one ever fall in love with this girl. Probably because only then will I truly be me. When I know no one will see it.

If Death falls in love with me, I'll be happy to go, moreso. Im in love with Death.

[tearingmytendonsout]

it doesnt fit

My teeth are in the wrong place, take each one out so the gums can be molded like putty

My hair is too much, pull it off my head and run sharpened pencils along my scalp to stop the itch

My eyes are too wet, stick the index and thumb on each side and pluck them out so the gunk behind them can be licked clean

My nails curve too much, pull them off so the indents they made on the skin can be filed away

open my cap so the bugs along the edges of my skull can be freed, drill a hole in the side of it so the oil can pour out, but before you put my mind back let me try a few pieces, I've wondered if it's like chewing a tentacle

Peel my skin back so the muscles can be pulled and stretched, crack the ones too tightly wound in my neck and back and hips

Use the tendons to puppeteer me so that I do more than I ever will

Hold me from behind and run your hand under my ribcage, linking your fingers under the connected ribs and pulling it out

My soul can only be seen through my wounds, I can only be truly experienced through the consuming of my insides and running your fingers along where my skin is torn open and the true flesh is exposed, licking this blood of mine because my skin and my mind will never be able to capture what is truly me more than the parts of me that bleed

[tearingmytendonsout]

God someone help me, someone love me please. Someone just ask me if I'm okay. I don't want to disappear, I hate that I believe this so deeply. Someone please take my hand and pull me out of this. Someone put me on the path where I do get to see my dreams fulfilled.

They're not complicated I promise. They're logically not impossible but my mind has made them so. I want to be remembered for more than what I am, I want to do things, I want to lead to greater things. I want to be something, I want to be more than what I am.

Someone make me feel human again. Please.

[tearingmytendonsout]

My fascination with human connection, with love, with friends, with family, is it all coming from a place of deep wanting truly? Or of grieving a time that's long gone that I may never get back?

I don't think I'm a human being. Sure I have the parts to make me one, but I exist outside of the world around me. I watch things pass, I learn and analyze everything, but I don't participate.

I never participate.

I'm not meant to. I exist to be a person you see in passing, that is all. A face you won't remember, words you read on a screen, a kind stranger at most.

I've said it so many times, but I truly am like the NPC of everyone's stories. I'm not the protagonist of any story, I'm not even of my own. I don't have a story in the first place. I've got a short backstory and that's it. Nothing happens.

I'm not special. I'm not meant to be. My hopes and dreams are just that. Hopes and dreams. I'm not going to experience those things. I won't find myself again, I won't become who I've wanted to be cause I'm already what I was meant for. Love is something I put into the world but I'll never feel it back. "I love you" is a platitude when said to me. No matter how many times my family, my friends tell me I can't believe it. I want to, but I don't.

If people truly enjoyed my presence then why don't they ever show that? Please, please prove what my mind says wrong. Just once I beg. Because I hate existing in a mind that believes the people I interact with inherently find something wrong with me, dislike me, hate me. My logic tells me that's not true but my logic has lost its power over my mind.

It says so many things and my emotions cannot heed them no matter how much it should. I find it difficult to even feel all my emotions anymore. There's just a nothing, my body having to fill in that gap for me.

I know I'm anxious because my hands are shaking and my appetite is gone. I know I'm stressed cause there's more hair going down my drain and my head hurts. I know I'm depressed because I don't wanna leave my bed and everything feels heavy all the time. But I can't feel them. When did that happen?

My life isn't even hard, my parents have money and I have the ability to seek almost every opportunity I can grab. I wasn't bullied as far as I know, I haven't been harassed in any way. School came easy to me, I had straight A's and found classes to be easy for the most part. I have no worldly struggles and yet here I am depressed and struggling to justify my existence. I don't deserve to.

And sure, my relationship with my parents is strained and I'm terrified of my father with some level of trauma from it. Sure, I don't have any friends here and have some kind of chronic issue besides the mental disability of neurodivergence. But that's all. If people knew what my life looked like, they'd agree that I don't have a right to deal with these emotions. My life is great!

So why am I sick to my stomach, why do I shake so much over the thought of disappointing everyone, why am I weeping as I type these things out, why am I so so tired every single day for 1826 days give or take?

Can a car just hit me already? Can something kill me already? I'm waiting for it to finally come so I can finally be the one that kickstarts the arc of other people's lives. That's what I'm meant for probably. Everything is set up perfectly for it.

I'm meant to be a tragedy you remember that leads you to better things. I'm not meant to do those better things myself.

[tearingmytendonsout]

Another weekend gone. Another weekend wasted. I always go into the weekend with high hopes. This time I'll finally get the work I need to get done ahead of time. I won't go into the week like a bumbling fool again.

And without fail something always stops me. Usually some kind of depressive episode or executive dysfunction. So far this semester it's been that or a physical issue, but the physical issue is clearing up now so it's back to the mind issue.

That feeling is back. It's creeping in again every day. It's that feeling that tries to coax me into believing the things my mind whispers to me when the loneliness of my existence is too loud to ignore. When the disappointment stares back at me in reflections so intensely that avoiding a mirror isn't enough anymore. This feeling stands there with it's hands out like it wants to guide me. But I know if I put my hands on their palms it'll grab my wrists and drag me to a place where almost no light will reach me. I managed to escape it before, I thought I had. At some point I stopped running, but I wasn't far enough. It still could get me. And everyday since I've been sliding backwards closer and closer to it but only now as my vision has gone cloudy and dim do I realize where I am.

And I know I should do something. Walk forward, call for help, anything. I don't. I continue to slide back, the only things slowing it down being my own words. I try to listen to what she tells me, to take what she says to heart. "You're being dramatic again, you still have time to leave a mark, your path is not set, you can't keep all this love in your heart to yourself you know this. It only drives you into madness and misery to do so. There are people who love you, one day someone will love you, one day it wont sound like a platitude and you'll believe it. So we can't go back there. Just go to sleep, we have time in the morning as long as we do everything we need to. And if we don't the world won't end for us, we'll still wake up alive."

But it's hard to hear her as the small things make larger and larger piles around me. Misspelling words, struggling to read text on a page, doing assignments hours before they're due or hours after, lying through my teeth because I didn't learn anything they just taught me, responding to an email a week later, not getting all the dishes done, not folding the laundry, not vacuuming again, not telling that girl in our class her hair was cute. Not knowing what to do with your life.

I've spent the whole day losing the battle against my thoughts again. That creeping feeling to cut everyone off and be alone again, that it's better this way.

Preaching the importance of human connection, of how we as human beings need it, that we need love, as I'm fighting myself from disappearing again and sending myself into complete and utter isolation and loneliness again within the same day. I feel like everything I say to others are just me crying out warnings to the masses as I sink further and further down into a darkness I can't escape.

Don't come in here with me, please don't fall in like I did. Notice that you're sliding backwards before I did. Don't stop running once you're out. That's all my words mean.

[tearingmytendonsout]

What if we were in hell and found peace in each other?

What if we were in a world where we didn't matter. Where we were carted around and put on display, but only worth how much you entertain your masters. Where being human meant you had a price tag, a pet put in a killing game against your will, the only drive to succeed being "survive."

And what if you saw me. What if you didn't look at me because of my talent and beauty, because I was meant to be gawked and objectified. But because of me. Because you were enamored by who I was, by the way I took in the world around me. By how much of myself I put into the world. By the way my eyes sparkle when I look at you, by the way I love to be close to you, by the way my touch feels against your skin. By the way I'd be happy just to stand by you till the end of time. And what if I felt the same way about you?

And what if we enjoyed the simple things together. What if you drew on the glass between us to make me laugh, what if we wrote a song together, what if we played in the water together, what if we watched the stars together? What if we ran away together? What if we ate together, drank together, existed together?

And what if we were never taught how to be human beings. What if we were taken from our parents before we could remember them, what if we were born without parents, what if we were raised to forget humanity as we know it?

But despite it all...something in me tells me to hold your hand. Something in me tells me to lean against you. Something in me tells me to hold you close. Something tells me to rub your back as you cry. Something in me tells me to wrap my arms around you. Something tells me to brush my fingertips against your cheek. Something in me tells me to put my lips to your skin.

Because I love you.

No matter what they do to me, no matter what they do to you, no matter what they take, no matter what they tell me to do, no matter what they force me to do.

I love you.

They can control my behaviors, what I see, where I go, who I'm with, what I wear, when I eat, when I sleep, when I speak. They can control me down to the way my heart beats in my chest.

But I will love you. I will always love you.

What if the only thing we had was love?

[tearingmytendonsout]

I'm getting that itch again. To just drop off the face of the earth and get as close to not existing as possible online. All my friends, the servers, everything. I'm so convinced in my own mind that they don't care or hate me.

Logically that makes no sense but logic hasn't won many battles recently.

I don't feel human. I'm failing so much at it.

Im just waiting for the day I die and start everyone else's character arcs

[tearingmytendonsout]

i dont know what to do

im falling apart every day, mentally and physically. my time is up it feels like, the world got everything it could from me. it's time to become a smile in someone's memory now. that's what you were meant for, just to be the person that people think of and go "gone too soon." that character that starts the development of the protagonist.

but i don't want to be that character. i want to have a life, i want to see things, i want to be a part of it all. i don't know how to. i know i often ponder ceasing to exist and being forgotten by everyone but i also know i don't want that truly. if i didn't want to exist anymore then why am i so desperately hoping someone extends their hand and asks me "do you wish you were dead?"

but i can't tell anyone. no, i can't say anything because they'd be hurting because of me and i can't stand the thought. i can't bring myself to be honest with the people around me about how much i ache and ache and ache every single day now. not even the person who has stuck by my side and would sit with me as i cry to sleep if they were here.

im so tired all the time, i can feel my body losing its function more and more. i wish i knew what it was, i wish i could stop it, maybe even fix it. i can feel my mind losing a grip on itself, like i'm slipping away from the controls more and more everyday and at some point my body will just lie on the ground as my brain screams and screams for help. i want it to be over so badly. end it all soon. i can't go on like this anymore.

but i dont want for it all to end. i have so much to see and experience. my mom would be sad. my sister would be sad. my brother would be sad. my best friend would be sad. my grandparents would be sad. my cat would be sad. there are things i can look forward to, i can't go yet. but i cant see the path going much farther ahead than next year.

all the things i want to do and see are dreams. things that can never happen. i'm not a human being, i'm not allowed to exist. i won't fall in love, i won't find art again, i won't get to travel outside the country, i won't have a family, i won't have a career, i won't fix it all, i won't finally be okay, i won't be happy like i was as a little kid again. those things are just dreams in my mind now, things i can never have.

im sorry to the little girl in me, i disappointed her. she had so many real hopes and dreams, her ambition knew no limit. i wish i could keep her away from who she becomes, a loser sitting alone in her home scared as she watches the days go by and time slipping through her fingers. unable to do anything.

sometimes i carry her to bed cause i know she's tired, i put on some music to help the sleep come faster. i love her so much and it only makes it hurt more. i wish i had loved her when i was her. i try to do some things to make her feel better, i get volumes of books that she wanted, i'm trying to take her to do some things she wanted to do, i fall in love with the things she loved again. i want her to have it easy when we go. it wasn't her fault, she didn't do anything wrong. i wish i could tell her that, but it's too late now.

im scared to even hope things could change for me. nothing happens to me ever, why would i think anything good would come now?

[tearingmytendonsout]

I go to say something, maybe even infodump a bit about a topic I know some about and love a immediately get hit with the overwhelming urge to take a knife and drag it from my stomach up to my throat