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Posted by on 2012/11/21 under Uncategorized

I saw the pencil sharpener, and broke out in to an immense fit, the tears flooded down my face. I just froze there like a pillar of salt and looked at the little screws on the hand held pencil sharpener, which had appeared to have had been loosened. I picked up the dainty little thing and held it up to the light. You could clearly see the droplets of blood on the edge of the blade. I quickly unscrewed the blade from the place where it had been cozily nestled at least two seconds before. I held the blade in my hand and then placed it on the table and heard the slight clink and it hit the metal table with a silver finish. When I heard the clink of the metal blade touch the table the left the room in search of the gauze.

I panted as I sprinted to bathroom. When I finally reached the tall wooden bathroom door I opened it slowly so that no one could hear the hinges constant creaks. I looked to the marble counter tops and slowly I picked up the gauze that lied there lifelessly. I looked at the tiny stitches in its elastic fabric and pulled it a bit. I ran with it in my arms back to my room. As soon as I got there I opened my large wooden door opened it quietly so no one could hear its creaking and slammed it tightly shut as I closed it.

I went to the metal table and picked up the metal blade, with the gauze close in hand I knew what I wanted. I sat in the corner with my face to the wall. I thought of what he said to me. When he told me how he loved me, when he told me I was his everything. But then he left me but didn’t tell me, he loved her while I was still loving him. He’d kiss me in the morning but her at night. I wasn’t good enough. I still am not good enough. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not ‘’her’’ enough. I glanced down at the silver little blade and pressed it to my inner thigh. I wrote the word ac with my blade. It was bleeding and deep and permanent. My body was my canvas, my blade the paintbrush, my blood the paint, and my scars the masterpiece. So every time I look down I see the words ugly and I think of him, I think of her, I think of me, I think of them, I think of what I did wrong, I think of what I could have done better, when in reality the only thing I ever do wrong is that I’m not her, I closed my eyes and though of what I asked him.
I said his name and then asked him to be honest with me. I asked him what she had that I didn’t. I asked what made him love her instead of me. I thought of the way he held me with his arms gripping my waist lovingly, his fingers intertwined with mine, when he kissed my fore head and whispered in my ear I was beautiful, the way he would sweep me off my feet when I saw him, the way I loved him and the way he could never return the love I showed. I waited there patiently for him to answer me. I knew he read my message but he didn’t want to answer, why I do not know. He was then nicest thing id seen, I wish we could have given us a chance I wish I was your favorite girl, I wish I made him smile, I wish he felt the way I did.

I heard a ding and that’s when my heart skipped a beat. The only words he said to me were “ Honestly?” and replied with “Yes honestly” although in reality I didn’t want honestly I wanted him to drop everything there and tell me he loved me. I wanted him to feel how I felt, I wanted to be loved by a man, I never have been before, not even by my dad. My father left me, just like the boy I loved was about to, no one even returned the love I expressed, it was always thought of as a joke, but in reality if I didn’t love him I wouldn’t have stayed the first time he hurt me, but I did, and he doesn’t realize what he truly means to me and he never will.

As I sat there in my room my face still to the corner, my eyes now open and the red blood dripping down my thighs which were now wrapped in gauze. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, it felt like the day my father left me. I had never felt this again, the way my father slammed the door and left a note in my room that said only two words. The words that the boy was about to say “ good-bye” I knew it, I could feel it. So in my mind I said “ good-bye” to him. I thought of the boys fingertips across my skin, images in head, the sweet sadness in my eyes but I knew in my mind I had to say goodbye to him, because I’d never want to see him unhappy. So In my mind I said good bye to my almost lover, good-bye to my hopeless dream, I tried not to think about him and just let him be, I said goodbye to my luckless romance, my back is turned on him, I tried not to feel the heart ache but with almost lovers always do.

And so there I was on the floor, bleeding, crying, suffering all because of someone who didn’t care, for someone who did even have the courtesy to say sorry and when he tried it wasn’t sincere. And while he was still on my mind I something buzzing on the dresser. I thought of him in my mind over and over again this boy was one of my personal favorites. He was different, he wasn’t your average jock or kid in all scholars classes. He was the boy who wouldn’t conform to anyone or anything for the life of him, he was the one who could love you dearly and make you fall for him with all of your entirety over and over again, he was the one who made an impression for life, in a good way but in a bad way too. I called him Wesley Taylor, and I was his Wednesday Addams. And that one night he called me. We had set up a sleepover, his parents were to be out of town as were mine. It was to be a night of cuddling and hot chocolate drinking where we were each other’s only company, it was to be a grand night, we would dance and for one we could escape conformity and other peoples opinions, tonight it was just us against the world. Before he hung up that phone call he said I love you. And I being the stupid nieve girl I am told him I loved him back. I meant it, but him? To this day I’m not sure what he meant when he told me he loved me, maybe it was infactuation, apparent love, or maybe it was real. But his actions did not permit this love to be real.
Every night this boy called me, we sat for hours telling each other secrets, I don’t know why I released as much secret as I did but it felt sort of nice, having someone there for me, for once. He told me I was wonderful, and my personality was the most darling one he had ever encountered. But one night it stopped and he said to me and I quote “ Darling, its not that I don’t like you, it’s just that your very young. Give this a couple years”
The moment I read that text I dropped. The sleepover was cancelled, as was how he felt about me, our plans to read lines together cancelled, our phone calls, our texts, the way he hugged me, our long talks, the infinite facetime calls, all cancelled, all over. Someday your going to meet someone unlike any other.it may be when your fifteen or it might be when you are hundred. But once you find them nobody’s ever going to compare. He was my nobody will compare, he was my every thing, and I was his nothing.

I wanted to believe that it was not too late for me, but it was, and so I cried. I cried because it was the best thing I’d ever had and I had lost it. He was gone, gone, gone. But I still crawl out of bed, I get dressed, I still go to work and school, I smile and I talk and I forget eventually. And I don’t cry anymore because I will forget about those feelings and the heartbreaks, the pain, the loneliness and I move the f*** on. I cried because it was the best thing, person, love affair I’d every had and I lost it but at least I had it.

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