Demons

*(Only Part)*

***This is just a short story, not a book****

  I have sat here, watching people fall– over and over again. I saw them happy and then they broke slowly. And with every tear that has fallen down their cheeks, held one word: pain. It's a cycle. It's always a cycle. People don't know pain until they have truly loved and cared for someone. Loving and caring for someone, self- included, gets you hurt. School prepares you for everything but excludes the teaching of how disastrous loving is.

I have loved a person. One after the next they either walked out the door or nicked me in the heart. I never knew a heart could endure this much pain but mine does. Again and again, I hold so much anger, have so many headaches, cry secretive tears, and look at myself in the mirror. I looked at a girl who had lost so much purity. She held so many things to herself— just look at it...eating at her slowly and slowly. Losing her mind over and over again. She was desperately seeking happiness in others and instead found a bunch of heartbreak. Making memories with people who didn't deserve her heart and her love, but still, she misses those memories. She smiles and says "I'm fine." Truth is, she isn't fine. She misses the moments she found happiness. The moments where she felt acceptance. So she feels anger and betrayal, punching everything within the distance. I think deep down she is screaming for help but no one can hear her. A broken heart and a broken soul. Truly lost she is.

I was onced asked, "What made me the person I am today?". In all honesty, after everything I have been through— deaths, heartbreaks, depression, love, backstabbing; all of these demons I constantly try to fight are a part of me. It's made me who I am. I am those demons. Instead of seeking happiness, I have accepted there is none left in such a cold world for me.

I love sitting in coffee shops. I've watched people come and go, but most of all, I look at them and instantly know whether or not it's all just pretend. Some come in and they get on the expensive clothes and shoes, they have their husbands or wives or children in a very nice and expensive car outside while they wait on their coffees. Others come and order, sit at a table and pull out their laptops, clicking on whatever websites makes them zone out for a couple hours requiring them to need more coffee. People hide it so well and I relate...I hide it so well that people think I am okay but I am not. I hide my pain and sorrow for those I love and care for. I make them feel better and when they do, I always sit and wonder who does that for me...? No one. I have to go through the pain alone.

I can tell you many times how much I have loved someone so deeply and they left me- ALL THE TIME. I have given so many chances and so many reasons as to why staying would be beneficial but they didn't. They left and no matter how many times they came back to me, I let them. They come in and use and come in and use, over, again, over again and again, love me. "Don't hurt me". I told them. They did anyway. I guess loving someone means killing them, killing every bit of pride and passion they have left. Messing with their mental and constantly abusing every chance they get. Is that love? Is that care?

The demons that constantly take over me grow everyday. They get stronger and more angry. They get hungry for pain. Either I get more hurt and they are well fed or I hurt the same why I have been hurt and they are full until the next day. Time to feed them.