Pieces of Me.

The Need.

12/11/2018

I don't know what got into me. I wasn't thinking at all. I just remember the need I was feeling.

I spent the whole weekend having so much fun with my friends and my girlfriend. We went to the beach, we saw so many falling stars, we drank, we had so many great talks, we took so many cool pictures. I even cut my finger in a starfish because I was being stubborn and wanted to take it home for memories.

I tried to come home as late as it was appropriate but the minute I got home everything good that I experienced over the weekend just didn't matter anymore. I said goodnight and heard nothing back, he didn't even look at me. Maybe he didn't hear me. I spoke again. All he did was look at me with a blank expression, probably for half a second, and looked at the tv again.

I shouldn't have lost it the way I did. I guess I had been holding back for too long. Not just holding back but ignoring the obvious.

The problem is not just my father. It's this hole filled with sadness and emptiness I can't erase from my heart.

In the end of the day my father is everything to me, but also an excuse for the inevitable.

I cut myself. More than I ever did. I always try to make three cuts maximum, but I just couldn't stop. And my hands trembled so much that it felt like it wasn't hurting enough, not just that but I needed to see the blood.

But it's like the pain and the blood wasn't enough, it just wasn't.

I look disgusting, I feel disgusting and now it's not because I'm fat. It's the shame and guilt that it's plastered all over my arms.

It will go away, now I know how to treat the cuts. Tomorrow it will be much better. Tomorrow...