My best friends are the cuts on my left wrist. I’m not sure that anyone likes me anymore, and if they do they shouldn’t. But my scarlet lines are the only things that i can depend on to make me feel a little better. What can i say, im an addict.
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The ‘magic’ will fade then it’ll be gone. You have to rely on yourself. Think.
Think of other ways to help the current situations get better. Don’t dwell. Think.
I had a few scarlet lines of my own… After a few years, they stopped meaning something, and just hurt. Cutting doesn’t necessarily mean suicide. I know. It’s a release. A relief. A feeling that this pain you can control. When I’d see blood, it was like all the bad emotions were leaking away. After a while, they don’t mean anything.