It's just like before. The long "conversation", not quite a monologue, not quite a telling off but definitely something your not supposed to respond with your own opinions.
What was it about this time? The mess? The lost key? The argument? Stress? "Needing to change"?
It doesn't matter because its just like before.
Only it hurts more this time because I wasn't expecting it.
I let my guard down.
Wanting to die? Not being able to handle it anymore? Wanting to leave?
I wasn't supposed to hear that.
I am too young and I am too unstable to be hearing that.
It doesn't matter. The only difference in standing there and listening and being in my room and listening is no one can see me cry in my room.
It's funny, really.
Funny in a weird, upsetting kind of way.
"How is it better here?how could it possibly be better here?"
I can name a couple reasons.
I haven't cut myself in 4 months, 5 in less then a week.
I tried to kill myself there at least twice.
Do you want to know how many times I've tried to kill myself here? Zero. Zero times.
"The only difference is that I don't challenge you as much as her."
So that's what it was? A challenge? Really? Because it felt an awful lot like abuse.
"As an experiment, this has been a total failure."
Oh
So it was just an experiment?
Will I have to go back now?
I don't want to
Please don't send me away
Im sorry
Please?
I'll find the key
I'll clean the mess
I won't argue anymore
I'll change. I will I promise I will.
Please just don't send me back
I don't think I can handle it all again
I don't need new clothes.
I don't need a cake.
I'm doing ok now. I'm happier.
I haven't cut my self in 4 months.
I haven't cut myself in 4 months.
I haven't cut my self in 4 months.
I haven't cut myself in 4 months.
I haven't cut my self in 4 months.
I haven't cut myself in 4 months.
I haven't cut my self in 4 months.
I haven't cut myself in 4 months but I'm getting really close to doing it again.
Don't you like my hair? I like it. I like looking at myself for once.
But who cares? I'm tired.
I'll just read fanfiction and dissociate before bed.
Pretend I'm my favourite character going through trauma much greater then my own because maybe, just maybe if they can go through all that and still be ok, I can to.
