I can feel the pieces. I don’t know who I talk to. Am I talking to myself? Am I leaving this here for you to find one day? Am I venting to strangers? I wish you would find this. I wish you would listen once more. You were the best medicine I ever had. I can feel the pieces of me. I don’t know when I shattered. But I can remember the first symptoms. I remember cutting because with a numb mind. I remember your tears when you hurt me because you grabbed my arm and you found my secret so so long ago. So many years ago.. I didn’t feel so shattered back then but I still felt the void in my chest. Maybe it started before you? Just a little before you there was someone. I got so attached. Young petty shit. I’ve always felt things too hard, too much. Too amplified. When you found me I was breaking. But now i. Please help me? Just please I want to talk to you so bad. But I’m scared to actually talk to you. I don’t know if I can take it. I think I know the outcome. But I can feel my mind shattering still. I can separate myself at will. I can pretend to be a different part of myself. Oh Christian? Yeah that guys crazy. Oh yeah I’m Nate. Nate was a gammer buddy from Canada. So long ago. But I can invent Nate and be him in my mind just long enough to look at myself. I look pathetic. I. My chest. I don’t have the words to describe. Hurt dosnt even.. it’s cold. And it hurts. Like. Pressure? But my head. Its so foggy. And skips around. And I want to talk to you. God I don’t know what to say. I’m crazy. I’m so crazy. Why do I expect you to help me? All I know is that I was so close to… Normal? … Better. I was so much better. In some ways. I was very naive. And stupid. And immature. And childish. And scared. And now I’m cold. And grown. Wiser, not scared, just so. Numb. So dead. But before. The hole in my chest was a dull roar, my head, foggy but whole. I don’t know. Please. I beg to who? Do I beg myself. Or do I beg you?. I’m going to break again. How many times can I break? How much can I stand? The mind and heart were not meant to feel this. You asked me why I hated god. Why I believed but didn’t believe. And its because of this. I need him to exist so I can hate him. Because what kind of sick sadistic fuck of a god. Creates a being with such a broken body and mind. A mind that breaks itself. What kind of god sits by and watches. And what kind of god damn god saves me life so many years ago when I was dying!? Why. Couldn’t he have let me fucking die!? This isn’t fair. And im. I. I need you. But I promised myself to never hurt you. To always give you the best. To look after you. And letting you see me like this. Letting you in again, trying to tell you how crazy I have become. You’re much better off with me being an old memory. And for now that’s how it will stay. Until I die or until I lose all self control. Your very lost friend – C