Sometimes I wanted to cut. I wanted to cut so deep I felt no more and needed no more. And sometimes I wanted to cut so deep I lived no more, but I didn't. I know now that's because I was strong- not saying others are weak, because they aren't- but at the the time I thought I was being weak. I thought because I wanted to numb the pain with physical pain and I couldn't that I was idiotic and stupid and weak.

I thought fear was weakness. (Sometimes still do, though not to this extent)

Sometimes I wanted to starve. Not consciously, but I wanted to control what all I ate, what all I put in my body... and I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted to be thin and tan and gorgeous like all those models and actresses and even just the girls at my school. I didn't want to hear the words "uglier than a cow" in my mind anymore. I didn't want that reminder of betrayal, and broken shards of glass on the ground that resembled my heart. I thought then my ability to eat a lot less was good and my inability to do so after a few months was weakness. I was so weak in my eyes so I became strong... never realizing while I was "being strong" that I was being weak.

I taught myself not to cry in front of people- tears show weakness- and only cried at night, in the dark, alone. I walked home, alone a lot of the time, or some sort of zombie-thing in the midst of a crowd of friends I didn't think I deserved, friends I didn't think cared. Oh, I had my good days, and boy were they great, but they weren't often.

I met a life saver and an asshole a year later and I learned the world did not, in fact, revolve around me. The life saver is still here today and she is one of my few near and dear friends. The asshole is, unfortunately, also still out there (breaking more hearts, betraying more friends, the usual) as is the one that "caused" (that was not quoted in the original... I just don't believe anyone really "caused" this crap) all this. The ass may go die in a hole.. alone... on a new moon... with lots of poisonous bugs and spiders and snakes. A slow, painful death. Amazing he tried to friend me last year after betraying me as a friend and cheating on me as my boyfriend. He's gotta be an idiot, or really dense.

As for the other one- the "cause". I must be insane. I see him every day in school (don't now, summer). I know he's a bleep-bleeping bleep and betrayer. But he was my best friend- was- from age six to age twelve. Six years... no big deal... hah! (He was also my first crush at the age of eight or nine which lasted even after the four words) I must be insane, because still, now, I wish for him to walk up and apologize and smile and laugh and hug me and want to be friends... doing what we used to do as children and also what we should do as almost-adults.

I am insane, aren't I? Otherwise, I would move on. I'd forget him and forget his betrayal and only pay attention to what a special guy calls me... and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Andrew, if you're reading this- which I know you are- I'm sorry, but this impacted me a lot, it lead into a lot, and some of the thoughts still pop up, sometimes. This is why Beautiful and Gorgeous and Pretty leave me speechless, because there's an internal war and I'm fighting hard to win.

This is also why I, too, have not given you all.

I'm sorry, so so sorry that I'm so weak.

So sorry in general.

But I said we'd work it out together... will we?

Please.

I am trying. I'm telling myself to remember and forgive the past, plan the future, but live in the present- and I do, a lot of the time, but sometimes it's not so easy. I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying...

Please.