So Like... 99% Of This Is True For Me Except Its Been A Week Since We Talked Last And We've Been Best

I went back because "i missed them". What i really went back for was to see if it was the same without me. I just wanted to see if they were the same without me. Not surprisingly, they were better without me. It also made me realize i was also better without them. Its wierd how just one person can change things so much. I love them, and i know they love me, but we were never made for each other. It really sucks, but its unfortunately true.

In Biology we were talking about euthanasia and our thoughts on it. Literally everyone in my class was saying they couldnt imagine wanting to die. That they didnt even have the guts to even hurt themselves in any way. I kept getting flashbacks to last night, and all the fresh scars on my arms and legs and it made me die a little bit more inside, knowing how truly alone i was.

It took me so long. I tried to stop loving him. I really tried. It took me so long. I couldnt go a day without thinking about him. Even after all the heartache, even after he broke me to my very core. But then i finally did it. I went a day worhout thinking about him. About the pain and heartache i felt. I was truly happy... if it were a thing. Then came the fall shortly after. Then new problems arose, and new people, just coming in and out as they please. But none hurt like him. None could ever match up to the pain he caused me.

It's infuriating how I have all these demons in my head no one else can understand.

Facts.

I gave him a piece of me i know ill never get back...

I had 1.5 cups of soup, and 4 oreos today (My friend offered me and i couldnt make her suspect anything). I feel so fat and bloated its not even funny. I wanna throw up, but im going to try to keep it down. I used to eat and binge daily, but now my self hate overrides any and all cravings

I wanna be with someone who understands my scars. Someone who wont try to change them, but understands why. I need someone whos equally or more fucked up than me.

What would happen if I finally did it:

They'll take one look at my body and one look at my arms and thighs and say, "this is the reason why"

They'll stop searching there. They'll say my parents were naive and the reason there were hundreds of horizontal lines running down my body was because I stopped trying. They'll assume that I lost sight of my future and what I had going for me.

I'll just end up being nothing more than a statistic and a "life that could have been"

Itll be fine though, because I'll finally be at peace.

Everyone will blame themselves and need everyone else's pity over the fact that they lost me when the truth is they never had me. I've had scars for years and they did nothing. I know some saw them. Some days I would cry out for help, and not for "attention" or whatever the boomers say. No. I slit my wrists so I could get help. They heard my cry, but they decided they knew everything and still left me to bleed.

They dont deserve to be pitied for my death. Not even because they caused it, or that they even could've prevented it, but that they didn't even try... they didnt care enough when I was alive, so why would they care now that I was gone?

Eventually, all will go back to normal. It's TRUE. They'll go back to their lives and barely even remember me as the girl who killed herself. They'll say it was because I was depressed. They'll look at my scars and cuts that never healed right, and think they have the whole story. You don't.

This might be proof someday. This might be what's considered a suicide note, but I'm not going to write a typical note. This might be all they find, if they even dig deep enough.

Most likely, They're gonna take one look at my body and say "this was gonna happen sooner or later" and think that's the end of that. But let me tell you:

You've barely scratched the surface.

No. See, things get so bad sometimes, and those scars are the reason I'm still alive. When I see the blood, dripping down my limbs, it's a reminder that my heart is still beating, and I still have a life to live.

It's not meant to be poetry. It's not meant to come out like a positive thing. As much as they help me to live and cope with the daily events of this life, they are what brought me so close to death so many times before. I suppose what they're gonna say about me is right, but that's only one piece to a very complex puzzle I hope to finish one day.

I hope to live so that one day, my scars can be faded to the point they're barely visible. I want them to be gone, but never forgotten. Because where I came from has everything to do with how I approach the rest of my life.

That is, if I choose to live that long.

Fuck right and wrong. I'm doing whatever makes me happy. Im going to stop thinking about what anyone else thinks of me and my actions.

- I am who I am. Deal with it.

When i met him, it was like taking a breath of fresh air. I can get used to this...

- (I think hes the one, so i hope i dont mess this up)