Once there was a girl who lost herself along the, lost her heart, and so she wanted to die. The story told gains the title of cliche and partakes in recycling, but retains truth and honesty....yet no one wants to hear it. Depressing, guilty topics require depressing, guilty people with shame enough to talk or hopelessness enough not to give a damn anymore. Perhaps both. I believe I belong to both. Always both. Both light and dark. Both good and evil. Both religious and doubtful. Both christian and homosexual. Both depressed and incredibly happy due to the heart of a woman I love more with each day. I love her.
When I was still a little girl, at least in mind and heart, I believed everything would be okay. Everything would work out. I would have a happy life, completing every dream that I chased. But I learned different. I learned that people abandon more often than they stay or choose to help. I learned that life is very disappointing, as disappointing as it often is beautiful. I learned that my parents were far from being perfect people and that I was just like them. I didn't want to be like them. I still don't want to be, but I am. I learned that sometimes dying seems insanely more comforting and promising compared to living. I learned that splitting my skin and leaving scars numbed the pain, but brought out judgement. From myself as well as others. I learned that food holds the evil of the world and purging, starving, lying....feels better than consuming....at least for a time. But it quickly takes over. It quickly consumes you. Everything consumes me. The only grace I have is her....her smile, laugh, embrace, kiss, love, protection, understanding, gentle hands, beautiful mind....everything. I love her. And that is enough to reduce the devastation that I've learned. Enough to reteach me hope, and love, and a future. So I will stay, always for her. I love her. Only her.
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