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My sleeve rolled up, but only for a second. I didnt even notice my fresh scars were showing. Suddenly i feel my sleeve being pulled up. Its my "friend". She doesnt know i cut. Only 1 person knows. I just said it was my sisters cat. She didnt buy it. Other people start to join in, asking what really happened. Ive beeen keeping this secret for 2 years, and ill be damned if they find out now.
Eventually, they gave up on asking. That night, i cut a little too deep. A little too far down. My thighs were already covered in blood, so i moved on to my upper arms, so it could be covered with a tshirt. It started rolling up again and the next day, i felt that same terror as someone tried pulling up my sleeve without warning. I couldnt think. I was in a group of about 10 people, and i had a total breakdown. I blacked out, but luckily, my one friend was in that group and told everyone to just leave me alone. Thats why i love her so much. I know she'll always have my back, even though we havent talked about it in a year.
I think i might have cut too deep this time...
It took me so long. I tried to stop loving him. I really tried. It took me so long. I couldnt go a day without thinking about him. Even after all the heartache, even after he broke me to my very core. But then i finally did it. I went a day worhout thinking about him. About the pain and heartache i felt. I was truly happy... if it were a thing. Then came the fall shortly after. Then new problems arose, and new people, just coming in and out as they please. But none hurt like him. None could ever match up to the pain he caused me.