I’m Changing

  (I took this half drunk in the backseat of a busted up minivan at two in the morning) So there’s me, I know “Ew”. Anyway, I spent most of last year (2015) and half of the year after (2016) thinking about what would happen if I ended my life. I tried once. 9-13-15. The special day. I thought I was dead. I stayed in my little comatose for a few days, before waking up in a smelly, white room to the voice of my best friend saying “SHE’S AWAKE!” It seemed like such a happy day for my family and the people who cared about me, but for me? A day I wish would have gone the other way. After I attempted suicide, I met this boy. We came to be best friends May 17th, 2016. We never fought. Never argued. We talked every day, from the second we woke up, to 4 in the morning. I had started smoking and drinking around 2016 New Years. I hung out with these kids who were older than me. Stoners and potheads. Idiots. After school started, me and the boy started arguing. Only occasionally. Rarely. Then, near September, he got heavier on drugs. He got high almost every weekend. I hated it. I hated it so much I did it too. He hated it. It was a pattern. A little after Halloween, we fought almost daily. We would yell at each other, he would insult me and hurt me so much. He always made me cry. Then the next day he apoligized and I always accepted it. Then he’d do it again. I had enough. I blew up at him. I screamed until I couldn’t breathe and cried until my eyes burned. He left. This happened about two weeks ago. He told everyone what a “slutty *****” and “attention seeking whore” I am. I’ve spent the last two weeks of my life not eating much and sleeping and crying. He didn’t care. Now he’s trying to come back. Fixate his way into my life. But I’m changing. No ore pointless sex with my druggie friends. No more crying over stupid fakes. No more acting. No more smoking or drinking. No more making my mom cry every other day. I’m changing. For the better.