Let me cry

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I need to cry one more time.

I hate having those stares everywhere I go, as if people's eyes bore into my life and find out all my dirty secrets, tagging me in a dreadful shame.

I'd honestly rather die now than live, just by how life is going so far.

Another person made the mistake again.

I hate the stares.

I try my best to hide my body, blanking out any sign of myself so people can't have an excuse to stare at me, yet they do it anyway.

Yet I'm so see-through.

I wish someone would understand that I can't stand my body, I can't stand my biological sex and I feel so juxtaposed to life.

Mom doesn't help, at all. Forcing me into those dresses that "suit me" or "compliment my eyes"; bullshit.

But I wish I had someone here, in my arms, or holding me in their own arms. I want to be fucking loved.

My friend says that he'd be there for me no matter what, Nate promised he'd be there.

But then he proposed to his girlfriend.

I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to do anything, I couldn't even be bothered to cry. I just wanted to die.

He was there for me, joking with me, growing up with me, but now I feel as if half my soul has been ripped from my body.

Well, I'm so sorry for whoever finds this, for whoever finds me like this.

- Matthew Robert Patrick

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