Excuse me while I crawl into a ball and try and contain my heart attacks and/or whale noises. 

but there’s no suicide note I can write that could explain why and how. There’s no way to put this into words or justify such a selfish act. There’s no comfort I can give my parents. There’s no way this wouldn’t kill my few friends inside. I just can’t do this to my family. Why can’t I choose my death without choosing to destroy the lives of everyone I care about?

I thought he’d at least be nice about this, and give me some reasons.
he’s acting like i never meant anything to him at all, and it’s breaking my heart.

I’m not ready to be alone,

I’m not ready to see him with other girls

I’m not ready to find someone new

I’m not ready to have him leave my life

I’m not ready for this Sunday to come, and be sitting at home on the day that would be our one year anniversary

I’m so scared, tomorrow’s gonna be one of the worst days of my life.
I’m not ready for any of this at all.

I can’t wait to be okay.

Everyone thinks i’m just fine.

that my life’s perfect, and i have nothing to cry about.

just because i’m not poor and i have two parents who love me everything is “perfect”

my life is “perfect”, and this makes me “emotionally stable”. 

People are so blind, people who are suppose to be my friends are so blind.

This past year has been hell for me, and i feel like no one cares.

because my life is clearly “perfect”. 

apparently a perfect life consists of waking up every morning praying to god that i could have my cousin back. Just to see his face again for a second would be amazing, i want to tell him how much i miss him. How he didn’t deserve to die so young, and that i’ve cried every day since we all lost him 4 months ago. If there was a way i’d die in his place and not have a problem with it at all. He deserves life more then i do, look at the way i use it. To complain and wish it would end. but i guess that’s part of the “perfect” life.

I then carry on through the day fighting the urge to tear apart my skin, slice away at all the imperfection and let the crimson liquid bring me relief. I can’t do that anymore though, for my mother’s sake i’m trying to stop. but after 3 and a half years of dealing with life this way, it’s one of the only ways I know how to calm down. However the pain stopped giving the same relief about a year ago, now i have to cut more, and deeper, in more sensitive spots. My left arm has a long scar  running up the inside, this is from one of my 2 suicide attempts. I wish i succeeded a lot but i guess i can’t even kill myself without messing up. but at least i don’t burn myself anymore, or pour alcohol on my wounds. so i guess my life’s “perfect”.

I used to be able to trust people. untill my best friends of 3 years broke into my house for the weekend. They lived there, ate our food, slept in our beds, wore our clothes, and stole more then 1000$ worth of things, including my new i-phone my dad had worked hard to buy me, it hadn’t even been used yet. For the ammount of disrespect they showed me and my family i hate them.so now i don’t trust people, and i hate them for that too. Those evil disgusting people made me into an angry frustrated person, I want nothing more then for their tainted barley human hearts to stop beating. which is pretty intense for me to say, but they’re the only people who’s death would bring nothing but benefit to my families life, their families life, and the world. clearly i’m “happy” and “emotionally stable” .

I hate looking in the mirror, pale skin with scrapes and scars. Awkward gross body with as much curves as a 2 x 4.  ugly hair that’ll never settle right or look the way it should. skin that’ll never be clear, and features that’ll never EVER be the way I think they should. I want to look like somebody else. someone people look at and want to be like. but i’m not, and i’ll never be. i’m simply not made like that, i don’t have the grace, social skills, or looks to be the kind of girl i wish i could be. instead i’m me. 

sometime i think it might be easier to be dead then to live in a world like this, 

but apparently i’m “emotionally stable” and my life’s “perfect”.

If that’s correct then i feel terrible for everyone else.

I’m sick to my stomach,

because i’m paranoid as hell

because I really can’t stand losing another person. 

because she’s so pretty, why would you settle for me?

because i’m afraid to ask the question just in case i’m right. 

and if i’m right i don’t know what i’ll do.

probably just fall apart.