Just love is never enough

Chapter 1

Trigger warning: this story contains suicide, depression,eating disorder,abuse

Taylor never would have thought that waking up in the morning would be something difficult for her. When she was younger, she even called herself a lark. However, it has become much harder to find the urge to wake up over the past three years.

But as in other situations in her life, she had no choice. And because she knew what consequences would await her if she wasn't a "good girl".

Waking up and getting out of bed was just something she had to do. It didn't matter where she woke up, what she woke up after, who she woke up with.

But every day she had to put a fake smile on her lips and hope she made it through another day without going completely insane.

Yeah and Taylor hadn't worried about her sanity in a long time. Not that she owned it. It was lost in the long list of things Taylor had sacrificed even though she wished she never had to. And that's where life chewed her up and threw her out.

After a few years of trying and hoping for the best, she realized that this was the life she'd made for herself. She couldn't blame anyone else for it. It was her decisions that had led her to where she was now. And she knew that. But still, finding the will to live was still the hardest part.

Taylor knew it was silly to compare her life to others. Because everyone said "other people have it worse." But the people who said that were missing one thing. Because other people had it worse didn't mean Taylor had it any less painful.

So Taylor had to put on a mask every morning. Cover her purple bruises with makeup. Apply blush to her cheeks because not finding an appetite was easier than some centuries finding one.

That's why Taylor wore a mask with a sweet smile permanently painted on it. The one where her eyes didn't look dull from lack of life. The one she showed to cameras whose flashes were too close to her face. The very mask she showed on television when asked how amazing her life was.

That mask was the very thing that was in the drawer of her nightstand. The one she reached for first thing in the morning. Because she knew no one could see how she really felt. Not because she hid it so well, but because showing her true emotions was too risky. And that wasn't an option she wanted to take.

Taylor often wished there was someone she could talk to, someone who would make sure there weren't specks of stolen sunlight in her eyes for years to come. But as much as she wanted to have someone like that, she knew that even if she did, people would never know. Not when the show she was putting on was supposed to be convincing.

"Smile, be strong," were the words she said to herself as she looked at herself in the mirror.

However, the woman looking back at Taylor through her reflection was a woman she didn't recognize. She was a completely different person that Taylor didn't want to meet. She was everything Taylor despised. She lied, she pretended, she was hurt, and she was weak. She wasn't her own person, and if she didn't hate her as much as she did now, she would feel sorry for her.

Because seeing herself in that state was unbearable. To see her out of control of her life, where she had no choice. Taylor wanted to laugh in her own face for being so pathetic, for giving up her life for someone who no longer lived. For putting herself in the hands of a control freak monster obsessed with power. She wanted to laugh at herself for being so damn willing and doing exactly what she was told.

The woman standing in front of her, staring her straight in the eye with her lifeless eyes, made her feel sorry for herself. Because despite all this, she understood the woman on the other side. She understood, but she could never forgive.