Sorry I’m so wordy, and you probably don’t care. I guess I’m just whiny.
My timeline of friends and now I have no one..
i had to abandon my two best friends 4 months ago. we were three and we had that kind of friendship that we couldn’t stay all day without seeing each other. we were brothers.
my friendship had started with them and along with this friendship i started to do cocaine. we all did cocaine. we were three cokeheads. three junkies. but fuck! we were three mothercuking brothers, and that no one can deny.
but when i was with those brothers, i forget about my real ones. my real brothers. my brother, my sister and my parents. i forgot my family. i and i’m sorry for that, for real. i love them all. and it’s a bliss that they never gave up on me.
and mommy and daddy, of course, they put me into a clinic.
but now, after beeing 4 months clean, after passing through 4 months without seeing my best friends – my brothers -, i reiceved a phonecall.
it was them. the two cokeheads. my drug buddies. my brothers.
it was bliss when I answered the phone, when I heard their voices. “why don’t you come here in the block someday? you stopped and we won’t let you to return. we won’t drag you to coke again. ”
motherfuckers! during these months i stayed clean, and during those months I always think about those guys. every fucking day. cuz they were my best friends. my brothers. they’re two junkies? hell yeah. but i didn’t had any other friends like them. Â i miss them so fucking much.
tuesday or thursday. these are the days that i can meet them again.
it will be hidden. no one can knows. my parents. my family. even my new friends. Â no one should know about this.
should i? should i meet them again? cuz there is a risk. there is always the risk. when reencounter those guys again, those places – there is a fucking huge risk.
there is a risk. and there is a problem. i won’t die without seeing those guys again. or, i need to see those guys again, before they die. i want to see them.
but… cocaine. i loved cocaine so fucking much.
and sometimes… comes in my head that image of us: the three coke heads, the three coke-brothers. just us, shooting and shooting, and screaming fuck you to anyone!
i need those guys, man. they’re part of my life, which is now incomplete because of their absence.
and i want cocaine. “did you ever get that feeling?”
i want to feel like a God again. just one more time.
the three gods. the three cokeheads. the three brothers.
i need them. and i think i’ll meet them again. soon. i think i’ll snort again. soon.
OH FUCK! but after the high passes, it’s just my brother and sister, both crying. sissy is always depressed. she’ll commit suicide. mommy… shes fine. but shes old. soon she’ll die. dad too. i’d wish i never had disappointed you, dad. i’m sorry. forgive me. at least he will fly: brother. my real brother. i love you so much, brother. you’re a fucking genius. brilliant. you’ll be a great artist someday. maybe fifty years later, we’ll see your name on history books.
i wish i had someone to talk.
I have no reason for it. No reason for the pain, guilt, or regret. No reason to complain or whine or say anything bad about my life.
My family are some of the nicest, kindest people on this planet. My friends are always there for me no matter what. I love them all so much and would do anything for them.Â I came from a wealthy home. While I was not given everything, I was given what I needed(and a little extra) and that is not something everyone can say. I’ve had a good education. I wouldn’t say I’m a genius but if I.Q. tests tell you anything I have above average intelligence. I’ve only been bullied once in elementary school but that was all(from what I know). People tell me I’m a talented musician. I play the violin, piano, and ukulele but I am also starting to learn the guitar. I probably have a good career ahead of me too. I am one of the most fortunate people in the world, yet I seem to want to leave it.
It is something I have pondered over for hours a day. Why do I want it to end? It’s a question I still haven’t been able to answer. All I know is it’s always on my mind. It has consumed my life like a black hole. It is always there, following me as I breeze through my life. My smile never reaches my eyes. When I look in the mirror I see nothing but an empty shell with vacant eyes.
Everyday is a fight for me. Should I pick up that bottle of pills? Should I just cut myself with a knife and let myself slowly lull into peace? This never ending battle is draining, but I have always counted on my family and friends to allow me to absorb some energy from them to keep on going.
I’ve tried telling my best friends what was happening, but was only half successful. I got the point across I was depressed but could not tell them to what extent. I was ashamed of myself. I let myself down and them down, I know. I still have not been able to tell my family. I don’t want anyone to worry about me. I don’t want someone to be distracted by me and my problems. It doesn’t seem fair for me to put this burden on anyone.
Now I am in college. My family and friends are all gone. I talk to them in short spurts between my classes and their classes. The generic “Hey, hows it going?” with the generic response “Fine”. That is what my friendships with these people, friendships that lasted since elementary school, have become. Our conversations are not of friends, but of acquaintances who happen to pass each other on the street and feel like they have to say hi. It is the same with my family. As my Mom goes on about what has been happening back home, my words of choice are “huh”, “wow”, “ha”, and my favorite, “k”.
I don’t know why I can’t speak with them anymore. Is it the distance? Am I purposefully trying to isolate myself? Is this my unconscious mind trying to get me to feel even more alone than I do already?
What has truly held me back from taking my life has been the guilt. The guilt of leaving my parents, these great, loving people, a body that used to be their son that they loved. The guilt of leaving my friends, the ones that have stood by me most of my life, with an empty spot in the car on vacations. I also did not want anyone to think that what I had done was someone’s fault. As I said before, no one was to blame. There is just me. Me and my mind, daydreaming about dying in the middle of class. Fantasizing about finding the perfect way to die.
To take my mind off of all of this, I had activities to keep myself busy. Either I would call my friends to hangout, read a book, or play a video game. I’m finding it near impossible trying to make friends here at college. None of them have been able to live up to my friends back home, or so I keep telling myself. Whenever there is a social event going on, I never can get the energy or motivation to go, so I am stuck in my dorm room. Shut in from the social world, just sitting on my bed browsing the web. Reading a book was the most helpful during the book, but afterwords everything would hit me twice as hard. While in the middle of a book, I could pretend I WAS the main character. It was me saving people, it was me getting the girl, it was me getting the happy ending. As I finish with the last page of a book I start to feel like my life is even worse. Nothing can compare to a happy ending in a book. Everything seems to work out and everyone has a good, happy life. I realize my life will never be that way, but I still can’t help wanting it. The video games were just something that kept my mind focused. I would sit at a computer for hours and hours playing a game and I would get off forgetting some of the thoughts that were once swimming in my brain.
I’m in college with no friends and no prospects of gaining any. I’ve lost all interest in books. I left my gaming laptop at home and I am not able to play games on this laptop. I cannot find anyone to draw energy from to keep the demons at bay. Any day now they will come crashing through the doors and release the floodgates.
I’m trying. I keep on thinking of everyone I love. Everyone who has meant so much to me. Everyone who has given me something. But it just doesn’t seem to be enough. I am a sinking ship with no lifeboats.
I hope to one day discover the unknown part of me that makes me feel this way, but I fear I may not live long enough to do so. I am sorry for writing so much, but when I started I could no stop. Thank you for reading this. I hope I can come back to this with news of how I may of lost some battles but I won the war and share how I did it to help others. Please do not take this post as another sign that it is hopeless for you. If you are going to take anything away from this, try to find the source of the demons to try and stop the flow. I’m still searching.
/end cheesy story
Today I attended the funeral of a family friend, she was 22 years young and she had taken her own life on the 8th of august. I didn’t know her very well, but anyone could see she was very naturally beautiful with a contagious smile and an infectious laugh.
She was well known and well loved by so many people, all I’ve heard is how amazing she is, how she was free-spirited, selfless, caring and kind. I heard how much she loved people, music and how devoted she was to her family and friends.
I heard she was a beautiful, bubbly, spiritual and loving young girl with everything to live for. I heard all of these lovely things and found myself feeling heartbroken wondering why someone so nice and loving felt like she couldn’t live in this cruel world anymore.
I felt heartbroken because she wasn’t here to see or hear all the people who loved her and thought the world of her coming together to celebrate the girl that thoroughly and geniunley enriched so many lives.
During the service I looked around, and the largest cathedral in the UK was full. Full of family and friends from all walks of life, and it was hard not to feel touched by it all. Her sister and two best friends spoke at the service, their tributes were heartwarming as they were long, I was beside myself as a single balloon floated to the top of the cathedral and hovered over the room full of people.
I’m not big on the whole spiritual thing but even I must say you could feel her in there with all of us.
Today saved me, she’s an inspiration, a force of nature and now I have hope in my heart. Although this was such a heartbreaking and tragic thing, even in death she continues to inspire and touch the hearts of people around her. She’s made me realize that there is nothing but love, nothing inbetween love and nothing to stop you from loving people. She’s inspired me to always have love in my heart and others in my thoughts.
Until today, I thought the world was a bad place full of bad people, but seeing such a beautiful soul take her own life had made me understand how my negativity was making my world a bad place. I feel that perhaps if people could have bought the beauty to her world that she bought to everyone elses then maybe this tragedy would not have happened and even if it did, the world would still be better off with just a handful of people like her.
May she rest in the peace she was looking for!
I’m 15, depressed, suicidal, and I don’t care about who will cry if I am dead. I have a few of the best friends in the world, but they just don’t get it. Comforting me won’t work, I don’t want you to tell me I’m perfect, or anything close to it. I don’t even want you to tell me I’m alright. Because I know you’re lying, I’m not anything. I’m just a stupid f*ck who can’t do anything right. My parents hate me, I hate me. I’m scared of my extended family, I’m scared of everyone, even my own friends.I don’t believe anyone, they’re all liars in the end. my life is built around doing well and being normal. there’s nothing on the other side, that’s why I want to end it. One Direction saved my life the first time, and they’re still keeping me alive right now. I have a concert on the 16th of October and after that I don’t see the point in living. No one can change my mind. I’m a huge f*ck up, nobody likes me and I can’t trust anyone. i have nothing to look forward to in my life except for those five boys, and after I’ve seen them, I can die properly. Please don’t try and give me all this sh*t about suicide, I’ve read it all, I don’t need someone repeating it. The words become old, and eventually life loses its meaning. Sorry for f*cking up your day. So long and good night
I don’t know why but putting my story out there feels like it will help, so here I go. Read if you please.
I was born healthy, I have two older brothers. My mom worked all the time so I stayed home with my dad. My dad is bipolar. Though I only vaguely remember, I’m told I spent most of my childhood sitting in the dark in the living room because my dad’s paranoia made it impossible to leave. My dad had some alcohol abuse problems and he would abuse my mom too. I shared a crawlspace as a room with my older brother. We eventually moved and my younger Â brother was born. I was a happy kid, normal. My oldest brother left when I was 4.
When I was little my older brother abused me. Physically. Mentally. Sexually.
In middle school my older brother and mom started fighting. It started out with yelling and moved on to hitting, threats, and chair throwing, mostly coming from my brothers side. He stole from me, my mom, etc. He hit me around a few time and would use me to shoplift.
Around the same time my mom had a new boyfriend. She started living at his house with him and his son. I hated them. I stayed with my dad, basically raised my little brother.
My best friends from kindergarten were twins. One of the girls became anorexic in 8th grade. Her parents found out, when she almost died. She was hospitalized. She stopped talking to me. Her parents blamed me, said I was too thin and it was bad for her to be around me. When I went to her house to be with her sister her parents would call me a slut. They said I couldn’t go out with their kids, I was a bad influence. I had never done anything, I wore her daughters clothing, but there was nothing I could do about what they thought. Going to their house became so stressful I would start walking though and end up crying on the sidewalk halfway there, unable to breathe.
I started cutting then. I wanted everything to go away. It never got very deep or serious, but I have the scars. People ask me about them. My mom found out and I went to a little therapy, but I never stopped cutting. I still do.
My attitude about food became really weird after my friends anorexia. I didn’t stop eating, but I didn’t, and still don’t, eat in public. Just around my family. And when I do eat I eat a lot. More than I should. Whole cakes, or bags of chips. 39 Twinkies. I don’t purge though, just binge. Then I brag about it to my friends. But I still don’t eat in front of them.
I lost touch with the twins, made new friends. I don’t share my past with them though. Emotionally I’ve become very detached. I overdosed and tried to hang myself in may but with no success. I have no interest in life.
I’ve been described a lot as a sociopath because of my general disregard for the feelings of others. Some think I’m narcissistic, others just think I’m a *****. It’s really hard to say.
So yeah, I guess that’s me. Well some of me.
I haven’t had much luck with this whole suicide business so far. A couple of years ago an overdose didn’t even touch the sides. A few months back I tried the exit bag method, and didn’t even lose consciousness. We’re pretty robust creatures, it seems.
As much as I’d like to succumb to a peaceful death in bed, it looks like I’m going to have to bite the bullet and try a violent approach. I’m going to start with the official drop table, and double the recommended height. I’ll happily trade off an increased risk of decapitation for a reduced risk of strangulation.
I’m sharing this with the internet because, well, you’ve got to tell someone, right? And the unfortunate nature of suicide legislation is that you can’t have a non-anonymous discussion about this kinda thing without getting committed.
All the best, friends.
ive had a killer headache all day. even though my morning started off pretty good and ive had a low stress day i just feel like shit and dont feel good at all. it dosent help people asking me if im ok when they dont want to know the answer. dont ask me something if you dont want me to tell you the truth. you only like the happy, stoner, party side of me so dont try to get to know the real raw me no one sees. yea you used to know me but then what happened, you put me in a fucking mental hospital and didnt talk to me for months then when i call you this summer we hangout and we’re fine. im glad we are good and i love hanging out with you but we havent had a real conversation about anything since we started to hangout again. if you ask me if im alright what am i supossed to do open up to you then have you leave again? then you still want to do our special thing and it makes me sad everytime because shit isnt the same and i wish we could be closer. before you left i told you i actually loved you and i told you not to say anything and think about it while you were gone. i can tell that you dont love me. i dont even mean in a romantic way i mean as a person in the deepest sense… then because you dont come on here anymore i gave you a journal so you could write in it and be inspired by the quotes. you threw it in the back of your car and havent touched it since. yes that kind of hurts but obviously it didnt mean much to you and it hurts. i just miss us i miss having someone and being so completely comfortable with them and being able to tell them everything and the feeling of being loved. itll be good for me to go away to school though i think. i just have alot on my mind and its all making me sick. how can someone be so close to you one min then betray you and hate your guts the next then say youre best friends again. there is no negative feelings toward her whatsoever and it was my doing becoming friends again but its alot harder than i thought it would be.
This Saturday, I’m going to a One Republic concert. I was really excited because I was bringing my best friend Kathrine and my other friend Morgan. Morgan and I used to be best friends, but she started ignoring me this year. In school, she would give me these short bullshit answers every time I tried to talk to her. We used to sit right next to each other, but she put two people between us. And then when we got home from school she would text me, acting as if she’d never done those things. So, I started ignoring her outside of school. She got mad, but I didn’t care. I have had fair-weather friends before, and I never want another one.
During the summer, we started talking a little more. So, when I got the tickets, I invited her, thinking I had my old best friend back. Of course I was mistaken, the new ***** is still there. I know this because today, a measly three days until the concert, she just bailed. She said, “I didn’t think it would be right. WE stopped talking and I don’t think it would be right of me to go with you. You should take another friend.” And Â a bunch of other bullshit. At first, when I read this, I was mad. Like really? She couldn’t have told me this a few days ago? She had THREE MONTHS to cancel. Â Then she does this? Like Bite me, really.
THEN, I went on Instagram. One of her pictures showed up on my feed. The caption was a normal one, but the comments were different. One of my school friends had said, “Ready to hang out on Saturday?” And Morgan replied, “Yeah, just ditched the concert.”
She had ditched me for another friend. Those few Instagram messages turned an angry person to a raging Irish bull. I am beyond pissed and now I realize that the old Morgan is officially gone. I want nothing to do with the new *****.
Now, I’m still mad, but to be honest, I’m crying. I really wish I still had a best friend like her. Yeah, I still have Kathrine, but she doesn’t know everything about me like Morgan. I’ve known Morgan since KINDERGARTEN. Â I’ve known Kathrine for a year, but she’s proven a better friend than Morgan.
I’m actually crying. I never cry, but I think officially losing yet another best friend is a good enough excuse.
We all seem to share one thing… The question, why do we want to die, why are we alive, why do we feel this way? I can only speak for myself we are all very different. I just turned 18 and have a world of opportunity. I’m considered pretty and envied by others and I’m off to a great school for fashion merchandising, my passion, at the end of August. I have best friends and a boyfriend. It all sounds perfect right? Wrong. I constantly wake up wondering why I woke up. Sometimes I lay and stare at the ceiling and feel like a hole is growing larger and larger in my chest. Other times I wonder why shouldn’t I die? Why should I keep feeling emotions that I don’t want to feel when life doesn’t seem to be so great anyway? People say we all have a purpose, but half of us aren’t even born on purpose… It was just sex, most animals do it… We live 100 or so years and die and are forgotten. I guess I just needed to vent but I hope I have you all thinking and connecting.
Well, I guess, My story starts about 1 year ago… I had been struggling with Insomnia and would do anything to get a full nights rest. I was mean, angry and on the verge of tears constantly. My friend had the same issue, but not as bad, her mom had bought some all natural sleeping aids. They worked great for myÂ friend and I was envious! I had asked my mom as soon as I heard about the success, if she could maybe be open to me trying them out.. I was shut down so fast… I was angry and hurt that she had said no…. I took measures into my own hands, I took about 10 pills, and stashed them in my room. I was sleeping great, I was getting back on track, my grades were picking up again… I felt better than I had in months. One night I went to stay at a friends house, and in the morning I woke up to my mom at her front door… fuming…
My mom found out who had supplied me with the pills and I was forbidden from ever going to my best friends house again… I was grounded for months and I slipped into a deep depression. I had always had issues… Even before the pills, my mom has always been a very verbally abusive person. Constantly yelling or calling me names.. ” Evil and Useless”..” F*cking brat!!!” rang in my ears quite a bit. I was always fighting for my say in things, or even just defending myself. Throughout my grounding and separation from my best friend, the fighting and screaming became worse and worse. I cried my self to sleep ( if I even slept) every night. To make things even more difficult I had recently just lost my aunt and young cousin in a car accident. I was drowning in depression, I couldn’t take it anymore… I began to think of what it would be like to be done… with breathing, oh how delicious it would feel to be free right? Many nights I would walk into the bathroom and think, tonight the night?.. or maybe tomorrow? At one point I even opened the bottle, I was ready to go. I didn’t want to be in the world anymore, with it’s traitors and its pain.. but something always made me put the bottle down… I’m not sure what it was. Until recently I hadn’t wrote letters… I had always thought, if they put me through so much pain.. why should I care if they knew why I did it? Right? Wrong!
Just a few days ago after yet another fightÂ with my momÂ … I wrote letters to my best friend and my parents.. I thought.. Maybe, they should know why I am gone.. I am their only baby girl… The letters are up in my closet… I haven’t torn them.. I haven’t touched the bottle of pills… I finally told my best friend about my thoughts… She was very upset and confused.. When I explained my depression.. it felt like I was trying to justify why I felt like I felt. I felt judged, in the worst way… I don’t know if that bottle will call to me at another point. I pray it keeps its mouth shut. I am still veryÂ much depressed, obviously if I wrote letters a few days ago… I am fighting.. I think for my grandparents… Imagining them at my funeral breaks me.. I couldn’t put them through that right..? I think for every person… struggling to keep your head above the waves of Â pain… Try and find someone dear to fight for… It very well may have saved my life…
My name shall remain anonymous. I’ll go by KLM, just to make things easier for everyone who decides to read this.
This is my story. It involves: depression, mood disorder, drugs, drinking, sex, suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, and lots of other mature content. I don’t want to trigger anyone, so just stating it before hand. Here goes nothin’.
I was born in Las Vegas, Nevada. Still live in the same house after being alive for these past sixteen years. A lot has happened in my life the past five years. When I was a child, I was a good kid. I got good grades, hardly ever got in trouble at school or home, had a loving and caring family, and everything was just great. In fourth grade, I met a friend of mine who changed my life forever (alias: MJ). MJ was into the “darker” clothes, the dark make-up, pretty much everyone called her emo when I was little because emo wasn’t really developed into a certain lifestyle when I was 9. Anyways, me and MJ didn’t start off being best friends. We were pretty much acquaintances up until I began attending my middle school. She and I were both new to middle school and decided to stick together. Later on, I found out she lives just down the street from me. We began hanging out on a daily basis. Soon after, becoming best friends. I started to pick up on the “emo” style. I dyed my hair black, started dressing a lot darker. 6th grade, I was still pretty good. A’s and B’s on my report cards. 7th grade is when everything changed. MJ and I met a girl. I’ll call her WM. WM was, by far, the most messed up 12 year old I have ever met. She was smoking weed, drinking, popping pills, having sex, etc. MJ smoked cigarettes, but nothing worse. Eventually WM rubbed off on us. We all became pretty close and Halloween of my 7th grade year, I popped pills for the first time. I believe they were Hydros or Xanax. Not too sure, might’ve been both for all I know. I started “fitting in” with them, and frankly, I felt accepted. I felt as if everything was going great. I started ditching school to go to WM’s house and smoke (weed & cigs), drink, and just chill. I was a 12 year old doing all these things & I regret it, looking back at it now. My brain wasn’t fully developed… It wasn’t matured enough and I put all these chemicals into it and now I’m sitting here telling you my fucked up life story. I began getting veryÂ curiousÂ when it came to sexual things. I had a boyfriend (alias:MIKE) from October – April-ish of my 7th grade year (we broke up and got together a lot, very on-and-off). Him and I planned on having sex, never did. We broke up and I got a new boyfriend (alias: LA). I then lost my virginity to LA on March 9th, 2009 (I believe that was the year, I get confused sometimes). Being not emotionally ready for that, I proceeded to freak out and tell my mom (at this point, my family’s relationship was already strained and I was taking anger / parent-child classes with my parents). I was freaking out so bad that my mom didn’t think I was stable enough to be at home that night. I was taken to my first mental hospital (Spring Mountain). I wasn’t there for long, I got released after a few days. It seems as if after I turned into a 12 year old interested in sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, I also turned into a very angry teenager. I was mad at everyone and everything. Cliche for a teenager, I guess. I actually don’t remember any hospitalizations between that one and my this past year (2012). Horrible memories are easily blocked out of my head. Â Kind of a blessing that I have the capability to do that. Anyways, 7th grade finished and MJ and I grew a bit distant (she was moving back and forth between parents since her dad was a huge drug addict & her mom was abusive). I tried homeschooling at the beginning of my 8th grade year. I only did it for a few weeks and my social skills already went to shit. I became incredibly socially awkward, and I actually still am to this day. I couldn’t do homeschooling anymore because I was incredibly bored with it and wanted to go back to public school. My parents re-enrolled me at the same middle school. My 8th grade year wasn’t that bad. I had a guy friend whom I started to develop feelings for (alias: EC) towards the end of 8th grade. I met EC when I was in 7th grade, but we were a bit mean to each other (moreso in a joking way though). In 8th grade, I had him for my health class. Mean jokes turned into flirting, flirting turned into exchanging numbers, and that turned into dating from the summer of 8th grade to 9th. He was a really good guy. I actually took his virginity while we dated. After him and I broke up, I began to question my sexuality. I was very attracted to a good friend of mine (alias: AM). I knew she was pansexual, and she was also a grade higher than me. Her and I got to texting and I asked her if she liked me. She kept beating around the bush until I finally told her I liked her. She then opened up and told me she felt the same way. We began dating shortly after. I was a bit bi-curious, not sure exactly what I wanted. We broke up a few weeks later due to my emotional issues. By this point, I’d been hospitalized atleast three more times (all three were at Monte Vista). I was a very angry and emotional teen. I was also on a mood stabilizer called Abilify. I was away from drugs and drinking for most of my 8th grade year. Once 9th grade hit, it all went downhill again. MJ enrolled at my high school (since she was living near me again, with her mom). MJ and I became best friends again. MJ and I then met another girl (kind of like the WM situation, but not as drastic). She was a grade higher than us (alias: BRI). MJ & I found out BRI also lived in our neighborhood. She was a pot head, so thus, I began smoking weed again. The first week of my freshman year, I fell into a dark spot. I had a friend named Jill who was a grade higher than me (I also met her in 4th grade, but I didn’t involve her much previously because nothing major happened with her). Jill had a half brother named John. He was 27 and I looked up to him. He was a big brother figure to me. He was always there, always available to talk, always told me he’d kick any guy’s ass who hurt me. Anyways, September 2nd, 2010, Jill found John dead in their garage. He committed suicide by carbon monoxide poison from an old car. I was torn to pieces. He was the first person I ever lost who was genuinely close to me. It hurt like fuck and I was heart broken. Later on my freshman year, MJ, BRI, & I all began smoking weed and drinking a lot. MJ dropped out her freshman year because she had to go live with her dad. I visited MJ at her dad’s house a lot. Her dad was a huge druggie, but he was like my second dad. He was extremely protective over me. Her dad was 38 and he hung out with a lot of younger people (15-25) as a way to feel young. I was 14 when I’d go to her house a lot, so obviously, there where guys around my age at MJ’s house all the time. Her dad would smoke us out and he was just really chill. He would never let me go in the back room of their house, because that’s where they did harder drugs. Anyways, 420 happened to fall in the middle of Spring Break my freshman year. I spent the entire Spring Break at MJ’s house, being high / drunk / both constantly. I hooked up with a few guys that week as well. My mom hated that I did drugs. She could obviously tell I did though, I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it. When I came home after the week was over, I got lectured by my mom. Being the impulsive teenager I was, I decided I was fed up and ran away to MJ’s dad’s house. But her & I both knew I couldn’t stay there because that would be the first place my mom would look for me. I went to (my boyfriend at the time) Ryan’s house. But he still lived in MJ’s neighborhood and we were paranoid that my mom might shut down their neighborhood looking for me (she works for the police department, I wouldn’t doubt it). From Ryan’s house I went to his friend, Kevin’s, house. Kevin was 17 and I was 14. He lived with his parents, but only him and his older cousin were home at the time. I stayed in Kevin’s room due to the fact I didn’t want his parents knowing I was there and trying to kick me out. I was laying on his bed when he proceeded to force himself on me. His cousin knew what was going on, but did nothing. Kevin just kept doing what he was doing no matter what I did to fight him off. I eventually passed out from all the screaming, fighting, and pain. I woke up the next morning and booked it out of his house so fast. I went back to MJ’s and called my mom to come get me. I was off my Abilify for almost 2 weeks at that point and I was incredibly unstable. My mom had cops show up with her to get me, just in case I tried to run. I was then taken to Monte Vista again so they could stabilize me with supervision. I was switched on-and-off a lot of anti-depressants and mood stabilizers with the years following (as of now, I’m on Welbutrin). Safe to say, I was getting pretty deep into my depression and I was unbelievably unstable. Freshman year finished, sophomore year started. Nothing too major happened in my sophomore year. I missed my first try at the proficiencies though because I was hospitalized again. I smoked / drank socially. I would only smoke or drink if someone had some and was willing to share. I hardly ever paid for my own stuff. During my sophomore year I dated a few people (guys and girls), but nothing serious. Now, fast forward to fall of 2012. The start of my junior year. I was dating (not anymore, lol) a guy (alias: FU) and November 17th was a day when everything went wrong again. I was in a depression stage because FU was a controlling type of guy and I felt like my life was slipping into a dark stage again. I was with FU and a few of his friends at our mutual friend’s (alias: TZ) house. I was on my phone looking through random Facebook statuses when I saw something that broke my heart. A friend posted something like this, “R.I.P. EC -insert whatever else was said-“. I started panicking and I only saw that one status at first. I thought it was maybe a joke, someone trying to be funny. (EC & I were still close friends after we broke up and I still talked to him frequently). But then more and more started to pop up. I showed FU (who didn’t know who he was, but I was freaking out) and I began hyperventilating and panicking. I texted a friend of mine who was really close to EC (alias: KED). I texted KED saying: “What are these statuses about EC on Facebook? This is a joke right?” & by then everyone FU and I were with knew what was going on because I was somewhat crying and still hyperventilating very hard. A few seconds later, KED called me and as soon as I saw the call I ran out of TZ’s house and answered it. All I heard was KED crying. I’ve never heard him cry before, and he was bawling. All he kept saying was, “EC’s dead. He overdosed. EC’s dead.” and I fell to the floor on the sidewalk and began bawling my eyes out. FU came out and tried picking me off the floor. I kept going limp though. I didn’t want to be picked up. I wanted to lay there forever and never move. I just wanted to stop breathing. I was crying hysterically and I couldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried. I called my mom (who knew EC and liked him quite a bit) & she answered. All she could hear was my hyperventilating and crying. She asked, “What’s wrong, Kelsee? What’s going on?” & she sounded scared. I then proceeded to say, “Ethan’s dead. He overdosed.” and I could hear my mom’s voice get sad. She said she was sorry and would talk when she got home (her & my dad went out that night). I went back to FU’s house and tried to calm down, but I couldn’t. Eventually I went home because I just wanted to be alone. Not around a single person. I’m actually starting to get a bit teary eyed as I write this because the emotions and feelings are still so raw, even though it was almost 7 months ago. My mom came home and gave me the biggest hug. My emotions went on rampage mode and I sunk into a deep depression. In mid-December, I decided to go to a party with my friend (alias: NP) and a few others. I got triple-faded that day. I smoked weed, drank, and did shrooms for the first (and last time). Long story short: Had a bad trip, saw Slenderman-like figures, had my mom come get me at 7/11 at 4:30 A.M. Shortly after that, FU and I broke up. A lot was going through my head. I was contemplating suicide for months by that point. I went home from school early on December 19th, 2012. I looked in our cabinets in the kitchen, which is where my parents keep all their pills. My dad had just got his prescriptions filled. I took his blood pressure and thyroid pills (thyroid wasn’t my first choice, but there was a lot of them & I figured a lot of anything can kill you). I counted them all and there was 111 pills total (it’s still weird seeing 111 to this day, lol). 81 of the thyroid pills and 30 blood pressure. I took them around 5 P.M. on December 19th. My friend (alias: AU) knew something was wrong. He’s a good friend that I talk to all my problems about, so he knew what was going through my head around that time. He called me & asked me if I did anything stupid. I said yes and told him what happened. He then told me I have to tell my parents or he will call them and do it himself. My parents were told around 7 P.M. and my mom called 911, etc. My dad (who I don’t get along with anymore since we have a strained relationship after I started doing drugs and such in 7th grade) came in my room and proceeded to call me a “dumb ass”. The paramedics showed up, but nothing was wrong with me. At most, my stomach hurt a bit. They took my blood pressure and it was actually a tad bit high. They asked me if I really took all those pills and asked me if I was just doing it for attention. I told them I took all of them, but they didn’t believe me. They told me if I took 30 blood pressure pills that I should have a heart rate of 0 and be dead. That actually pissed me off a bit because I was like, “Well why the hell am I still breathing? My intent was to die!” I was transported to UMC and taken to the ER. Since it was 2 hours+ after I took the pills, they couldn’t pump my stomach or make me drink charcoal since the pills were already digested. They took several blood test and whatnot. At about 3 A.M. on December 20th, I was transported to Spring Mountain (at this point I’d been to Spring Mountain once previously & Monte Vista 8 other times). I stayed there for exactly 2 weeks and was transported to Copper Hills Youth Center in West (or possibly South, I don’t remember) Jordan, Utah for long-term treatment. That was my first long-term ever. When I first got there I was angry with the world. I was punching stuff a lot (which they classified as “self harm” since I had never cut) and I actually popped a few blood vessels in my hands and they were swollen, bruised, and gross, lol. But anyways, after being there a few weeks, I got a lot more comfortable and opened up more towards the end of January. My therapist showed me my treatment plan. On it, it stated I had to go 3 months without punching anything (it technically said “without self-harm”) in order to be considered to go home. My intended stay was 6-9 months, but, in the beginning of April, my therapist was notified that my dad’s insurance was no longer paying for me to stay there and I had to be sent home (Thank GOD). I was taken home April 6th of this year and things were alright for awhile. The main issue was still there though: my parents. They always sent me to treatment to “better myself”, but they never realized I’m not the only fucked up one in this house. They both need to get help and realize they’re causing issues as well, although they’ll never admit to it. So, I came back and I did schooling in CHYC, but I was a bit behind on my junior credits, but it was too late to jump back into public school, so I started “attending” a school called Academy of Individualized Study (basically homeschooling with packets that I go test on every week at a nearby high school). I made up my credits and actually got ahead. I currently have 20.5 out of 22.5 needed to graduate and I’m not even a senior yet. I still need to pass my math (failed) & writing (was absent) proficiencies though, in order to graduate. I was actually pretty excited though, because with AIS, I can do school work at my own pace (very fast, in my case) and I’m taking Government right now over the summer & making up my Algebra 2 credit in summer school. With all of that done and completed / passed, all I would need to take is a fourth English class for my senior year and I meet Nevada graduation requirements, meaning I could graduate early. My plan is to try really hard and graduate (hopefully) before Halloween of this year. But, alas, another problem is on the horizon. Obviously I still don’t get along too well with my parents (esp. my dad), so I would like to leave ASAP, but that would require money and a job, etc. Recently, I have actually been contemplating suicide again, this time by hanging. I feel overwhelmed and stressed from my parents. Always pushing my buttons, calling me names, and just being a nuisance. I’ve actually spent 80% of my summer in my room, sleeping, eating, watching TV /Netflix, and texting. I occasionally go out with my friends, but not often. I’ve been sleeping a lot recently too (which could be from another issue I’ll mention a bit further down), like anywhere from 8-20 hours a day. I have a really close friend who’s like an older sister (alias: KB & she is 19). Our moms have known each other since they were both 15, so it’s safe to say I was pretty much raised around KB & her younger brother (alias: JT) who’s a month younger than me. They’re family. KB knows I have a lot of problems with my parents and she’s actually planning on getting her own apartment / house soon. I told her I was feeling suicidal again & I vented to her about what’s been going on with my parents and I. KB then said when she gets her own place, I’m more than welcome to go live with her. That’s literally the only reason I’m sitting here still alive. I asked my parents about moving out after I graduate early (I’d be 17 and not legal) and they said as long as I graduate, I can do what I want. My thought though, is since they trust KB a lot, if she gets an apartment / house before I graduate, I could go live with her regardless. I didn’t mention I was planning on moving in with KB to my parents though, because I didn’t want them to sabotage anything. My mom also said if I plan on moving out before I’m 18, I should get emancipated (which I’m 100% down for). BUTÂ we have yet another issue on the rise (one that is a lot more serious as well). Okay, so, about two or so years ago I made a friend online that lives in Vegas as well (alias: BM). Two years ago when we talked, we talked a few for months, but it never furthered from friendship. We also drifted apart after awhile & I changed my number last year, so I lost his and he didn’t have my new one. Fast forward to May of this year, I got a kik message from a “BM” & the name sounded so familiar (He got my kik off a website). I looked at his profile on said website and realized it was the same guy. I replied to his kik message that I know him, we were friends forever ago, etc. & he replied with stuff about remembering me also. We got to talking again & he’s now 19 (as of the beginning of June) and just graduated high school. Him & I got into a conversation about liking each other in mid-May. We both really like each other, but with it being summer neither of us really want to date right now. Not that I would hook-up with any other people, but it’s a lot different when you’re dating someone over the summer versus not. You have the urge to talk to them, vice versa, but you might get busy, or someone might get butthurt at party pictures, etc. So, if him & I are still talking towards the end of summer / fall we’ll probably get together. But here’s the issue: on his birthday, him and I had sex. Sparing you from disgusting details: he busted twice, first time inside, second time outside (in my defense, I didn’t even know he busted the first time because he just kept going. When he told me he did twice I started freaking out). Went straight from round 1 to round 2. I am on birth control but have been forgetting to take my pill & have been irregular. Was ovulating that same day. So, suffice to say, I may be pregnant with his child. It terrifies Â me to think like that though, because when I was starting to get suspicious about it, I asked him “hypothetically” what he would do if he got me pregnant. He said he’d push for abortion because neither of us are in a place to take care of a kid, and I understood and agreed completely. But here’s my thing: I have strict morals against abortions. I could NEVER bring myself to have an abortion. If I was pregnant but couldn’t afford for the child and support them, I’d give it up for adoption. & I’m not one of those girls that freaking out about being pregnant for no reason. Like, ever since, my body has been acting weirdly and been doing things that it hasn’t before (I’ll spare you gross details). So I’m completely overwhelmed by that and not sure what to do if I am (I’ll be taking a test towards the beginning of July). My mom always told me if I got pregnant and wanted to keep it, I couldn’t live with her anymore (which I’m thinking is an empty threat because she couldn’t legally do that and she’s probably saying it to make me not want to keep a child at a young age). So, I’m hanging out with KB tomorrow (today, technically) and I’m going to talk to her more about the apartment / house. I’m also going to tell her my fear of being pregnant. She’s very understanding and she’s actually really good with kids, so I’m thinking if I wanted to keep it, she could help me out. The whole keeping the kid freaks me out too though, because if BM doesn’t want to be apart of the kid’s life (which IÂ highly doubt, but you never know), then I’m just going to be getting money and have no father-like support for the kid. Also, if I find out I am, I would most likely try to move in with KB even sooner & get emancipated. If I can’t, then I’d just hide the pregnancy from my parents until I graduate. It’ll be a bit difficult, but if they did decide to kick me out, I wouldn’t be able to finish school, which I need to do.
Well, that’s my incredibly fucked up (and detailed) life ~
xo Anonymous Fake Smiles â™¥
I know how much the decision to commit suicide really hurts. I know how much pain it takes to be pushed to that point. About six or seven years ago I made the decision to kill myself. Six or seven. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve been pushed that far. Luckily for me the day I made that decision someone, who I know consider my guardian angel, saved my life. We are best friends, sisters in fact, to this day. I’m so glad I didn’t kill myself. It turns out I didn’t want to stop breathing, I just wanted my problems to go away.
I want to do the same thing for anyone, and everyone else. I am willing to help everyone with any problem they may have. It doesn’t matter the time of day or night, who you are, where you live… none of that matters. Everyone deserves to live and have a fresh start. If you’re thinking about suicide, let me help you. I’ll listen to you, be your friend, or if you just want to vent to someone as a one time thing I will.
Anyone who wants to talk can email or instant message me at SierraRoseJ@yahoo.com . I hope to hear from all of you with any problems.
-Peace and love.
On July 26, 2013, I will be sad, depressed, and all kinds of crap will be going on in my mind. Why? That day will mark the 3rd year that I lost my father to suicide.
My father was the most kindest mad you would have ever met. He would give his shirt off his back to a stranger. He use to tell me and my siblings and friends that “there is nothing wrong with being yourself.”
How can a man with such a big heart want to end all of that? And where was I when it happened?
I was about to take my last exam of summer classes when my brother called me. I didn’t want to answer it because I was about to go take a test. So I ignored it. It then rang again. My brother usually never calls me, so I answered it thinking that it must have been important or something. And to this day I will never forget what he told me.
He told me that our dad was dead. So many thoughts were going through my mind. Like “why,how,what was he thinking?”
Being at the university, I had to drive an hour to make it back home to where I found my mother and siblings out in the yard crying and holding one another. I got out and joined them. Never have I ever cried so much in my life.
My family was staying at our beach house for the summer and my father was back home because of work. If my family was there, or if he was with us at the beach would he had still tried to kill himself? Would one of us tried to have stopped him.
Not only do I get depressed because my father is dead, but I’m also depressed because of the way he killed himself.
I get so mad at time. At him, at myself, and at my family. Because of him killing himself, I dont like to be around my family anymore. I rarely talk to them on the phone. I find my self feeling guilty about him killing himself. I now have mood swings to where I’m mean and dont even want to hang out with my best friends or even have a social life in that matter. I’m even having a hard time trusting people and becoming friends with new people. Why? Because I’m scared that If I get too close to someone, they are just going to leave me again.
Well thats my story. I needed to tell someone so thank you for listing.
Three years ago this summer I lost my father. He managed to make it to my graduation and my first summer semester in college. However, towards the end of that summer my father decided to take his own life. To be a victim of SUICIDE.
During that summer, I lost three of my best friends. Not cause of death, no. But because we split up and went to different universities around the state. We do still talk to each other from time to time, its just hard to find another group of people that you share some of the same interests in, the same personalities, and same basic humor.
During that summer semester I joined a fraternity. They are a great group of guys. I came real close to some of them until this past spring semester. My closest friend in the fraternity decided to move back home after he graduated. so he’s about 5hrs away now and is staying there for good to find a career.
Another one of my closets friends here at school is about to leave in a few weeks. He’s going to school two states away. that is an 8hr drive from me.
Its just so hard to trust and be close to people when I know they are just going to leave me. I know it is just a part of growing up and moving on. But it just makes me so sad. I’m so bored with life because all of the positive people in my life are leaving.
I’m just upset and depressed about it all and I need to let someone know about it.
When i was about two years old, my mum left me in a small house with an 11 year old babysitter for a whole weekend to get drunk.
I remember people telling me that i would have been in care if it wasn’t for my Dad, although now that i’m growing into my teenage years he doesn’t pay any attention to me. I live with my Nan and Granddad. My Granddad is maybe the only person i appreciate, along with my best friends. I obviously love my family, but i feel awkward around my Dad, and my Nan’s constantly drunk and angry, and she’s spending all of my Granddad’s money on Carling and cigarettes. I still see my Mum, although i hate going to her house. She’s constantly high on Butane gas fumes and is always accusing me of stealing and lying, which makes life way more difficult at home.
I have ‘talents’, i’m a musician,a writer and an artist, but i can’t really achieve anything because nobody supports me. I would love to become a singer, and i don’t really know a way to become one apart from Britain’s got Talent or X Factor, i see peoples dreams coming true and i really want that, but i wont get any support until i start to lose weight. I am happy when i go to school, my friends all make me laugh and its fun, but i don’t like school work, who does, right?. Yet lately i am struggling to smile. When i come home from school i don’t help myself, there is nothing to do but to sit in my room,i have no friends around the small area i live in and my best friends live on the other side of town. The only people around my area at my age are either slags, chavs or hang around with six year olds. My Mum is currently unemployed and so tries to earn money to pay her rent by prostitution. When i go to her house, she speaks openly about sex and her ‘clients’ in front of me. My little sister still goes there, she’s 9, and i cant wait for her to grow up and realize how pathetic our Mum is, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon. I also want to speak to someone seriously soon, but it may stop her from seeing her Mum, and if she is prevented from seeing Mum, she starts biting her classmates. She has been expelled from two schools so far for biting children so i cant say anything or take serious action. She is so innocent and i love her to bits. I want to stop seeing my Mum but i wont have any way of seeing my little sister. I don’t know what to do anymore
This is going to sound cliche, but it’s my boyfriend. I have liked him for as long as I can remember. When we were not dating we were basically best-friends. I told him everything. Â About me cutting, my mom on drugs, and when she said she didn’t care about me. So we talked a lot. One of my friends kept telling him to ask me out and he finally did. June 1st, 2013. I still have scars, although I haven’t been cutting ever since. It feels good to know that you have someone that cares about you. He is everything to me. I couldn’t live without him. It may sound stupid but it’s true. I love him. c:
ive singlehandedly fucked up my whole life. i was in love with my best friend. we’ve been best friends for years and ive loved him the whole time and then i fucked the whole thing up. because he was being distant and i freaked and stopped talking to him for weeks and then the first time he even texted me all he wanted to say was that he “liked” someone. this gorgeous fucking perfect girl that everyone is in love with and that he will never get. and now everything is messed up and i ruined our friendship and we are both going to the same summer program for 5 weeks and i dont even know what will happen and i still love him but i also hate him and i really need him right now because everything else is fucked too. all of my friends hate me now. i dont even know how it happened. my closest (i guess) friend doesnt really like me im just her backup friend and shes just as fucked up as i am. my other friends dont even talk to me anymore and they all fucking hate me. i dont know what to do and i miss him so much and i feel so lonely. and i stopped cutting a couple months ago but i just started again because everything is shit and nobody fucking cares. and i know i sound like i have it so easy but im literally completely and utterly alone and nobody gives a fuck shit about me. even my parents dont love me im more like a hotel guest than a kid. i wish i were dead. i might OD on benadryl again so i can just fall asleep but i think i ate the whole bottle already. i sound like a whiny rich kid. well what fucking ever. i wish i were as drugged up as my sister so at least i would think i was happy. i honestly dont even know why im here anymore. i wish i could just sleep forever or that i were never born.
People just don’t understand that I’m slowly dying inside. That I feel like such a loser everyday. I’m not pretty. My two best friends, the only girls I hang out with, are super pretty and a perfect size 0 or 1. They are Barbie doll perfect. Ten there is me. I’m not pretty like them, and I am not tiny. Everyone tells me I have a nice body and I’m pretty, so why don’t I believe them? My self-confidence is so low. I just want someone there for me. My “best friends” don’t even realize when something is wrong with me. They just leave me to be even more depressed. They won’t ever truly understand how worthless I feel. I m such a loser..
As I am typing this, my life on paper sounds like the most ideal life anyone can hope to live. I did drop out of college and my job, but only for a few months as I’m planning to get a part time summer job and take classes again in the Fall (I’m lucky my parents didn’t punch me in the head for what I did). Everyone in my family is… family. Normal. Granted, my parents and I had our differences and argued sometimes, but that’s normal, isn’t it?
Childhood was relatively normal (minus being molested by two teeenage girls when I was like… 8? I don’t think it does anything too much these days). And I was a kind of a whale in elementary-first 2 years of high school. So yea, I was teased quite a bit, but not to the point of being bullied around. It did hurt my feelings and made me sad, but I made it worse for myself by perpetuating the negative thoughts and ended up thinking of killing myself a lot (because of my looks, shyness, no friends, etc). But I think Sophomore year was when I met two guys who would be my two best friends (first bestfriends I ever had). That helped me out a lot throught the rest of highschool. And then, something… interesting happened.
Not going into too much detail, I basically had my first crush with a girl that I actually talked to in school. I confessed, and it was rejected (even though she DID have a boyfriend). That made me moap around for a year or so. But during the time I was hanging out with her in school, it made me motivated to better myself. I stopped sleeping in the same bed as my parents (at age 13, yeah that’s pretty pathetic, just don’t tell anyone 😉 ), I started working out A LOT and dieted for awhile, and it payed off. I was so happy with myself, that I grew some confidence in myself.
Then I had another crush to move on from the first crush, and guess again! Feelings rejected. I should’ve known. Moped around, live and learned.
But then, a surprise. I went to prom with no date (surprise!) but instead, my best friend and a friend It I knew from middle school. I was planning to have a good time with this group I hang out with in the morning, forgetting my single troubles, but a girl came up to me. She was talking about a girl who’s in the same class as me, saying that she likes me. When I first heard that a girl liked ME, I was pretty happy. I didn’t know she had feelings for me, we just work in the same table and talk.
But, since my selfish ego just wanted a girlfriend for the sake of having one, I told her I liked her back. I really did like her, but not that much. After prom, we started dating for about a month, then I decided to break up with her because she wouldn’t have sex with me (plus, she had other attributes that I didn’t like). Horrible of me to do, I know.
Fast forward to graduation, at this point I accepeted the fact that I will never find that special someone in my life (yeah, right. At 17, who doesn’t?), I was ready to just live a lonely life of schooling to get a great career and make a lot of money, enough to support my parents when they get older and to provide a family of my own. Somehow, I was content the way things were… until I met her.
So it was graduation practice, we practice our positions and where we walk and what we do. Well, we were lined up alphabettically last name. There was a girl in all black sitting in front of me. She wasn’t talking to anyone while everyone else was, so I decided to talk to her because neither was I, lol. And we talked, and talked, and laughed. We sat next to each other as our last names were really close alphabettically. It was, fun. On graduation day, we did the same things: talked, made fun of stuff, had a good time.
We added each other on Facebook, and said our goodbyes.
A week later, I decided to actually message her to hang out. So we did, and started a chain of haning outs with her and friends. Sometimes, just the two of us. During that time, it felt like something… nice. It was, nice. And after a few months of hanging out, we started dating. She was perfect, everything I wanted in a girl. My dream girl… soul mate, but that’s kind of strecthing it. But I’ll spare you the details and just say she broke up with me and I really got off the rocker by saying horrible things and doing horrilble things (NOT RAPE, I WOULD NEVER WANT TO GO TO JAIL TO BE BUTTFUCKED BY BIG FRANK FOR 10 YEARS).Â Ever since then, we haven’t talked or seen each other, but she’s still in my mind every single minute of my life (unless I distract myself with Youtube or games). And even then, it doesn’t help. It’s been well over three years now, and I still can’t get over her. It’s sad of me, even I think it’s pathetic. I tell myself to move on and find another girl, I always did. But I can’t (because by now my self confidence has been demolished to an ounce of ash) and I started confining myself all the time, plus I gained a few pounds back.Â But maybe I’ll find another girl later on, who knows.
I just want it to all end. But why? Why over one girl when there’s a like 10 billion people on the planet. In someone else’s shoes, I pretty much have a good life and shouldn’t complain about anything.Â But why? Why does it feel like time stopped and I’m stuck with it? I even wanted to kill myself over this girl, which looking back at it now is fucking ridiculous and pathetic. But why? Why do I feel so miserable in this bask of happiness? Why do I feel so empty when my life is full of… life? I’m just really flabbergasted right now.
Maybe this is what love really is. I told her I loved her one night after a date, and she didn’t say it back. But I knew she didn’t feel the same way (it was only a few weeks into our relationship. Yeah, jumped the gun there.) But since that night, three years ago, I haven’t changed my feelings at all. I still miss her and wish she was still with me, and I just want to share everything I have, see, feel, and hear everything with her, even though she’s probably forgotten about me and already moved to another state (one of my friends so graciously informed me).
I don’t know, I’m just at a loss. Maybe I’ll move on when I find another girl to love. Or maybe, I’m just unconciouslly waiting for her to come back. Maybe in some other place, at some other time.
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