Skins | Effy

Crowds don't make me happy; alone I don't feel right

- nothing will seem easy about me

You don't need me. Just stop kidding myself.
Skins | Emily cry
You broke me.

I tried to be strong. I really did. But I can't do it anymore.

I'm angry all the time. It helps. It makes me forget. Anger is such an easy emotion for me; it's empowering and raw, and never makes me feel weak. Unfortunately, true anger rarely exists in my life. I usually use it as a cover up for the sadness I feel.

When I forget to be angry, my real emotions surface. Devastation. Loneliness. Worthlessness. Hurt. I'll hear a certain song, or see a certain scene as I'm walking down the street and suddenly you're in my head, destroying all prior notions I may have had about how well I'm coping on this particular day.

I want to die. I want to feel physical pain because it makes me forget the emotional pain you wrought for so long, and are continuing to cause me. I hadn't cut in nearly 2 years, but I did the other day, just to feel something other bone crushing sorrow. I'm reckless. I wish for car wrecks. For a trip down some stairs. A random aneurism. Every time I'm out on my longboard, I pray for a fall, a massive fall that could do real damage. 

I think that if I get hurt badly enough, maybe you'll notice me. Maybe you'll realize how important I am. Maybe you'll figure out that if I were gone for good, like he is, you couldn't bear it. And then you'd come running back. 

I can't handle you treating me like I'm not even a person. Like I'm just something for you to use and abuse and then dispose of when you're finished. You've always made me feel like I'm not enough, and that I should be punished solely because I'm not Sam. I was never wanted. Never needed. Never anything. That's how you treated me then, and that's how you continue to treat me now. I was good to you. I loved you. Still do. I can't stop, and I just wish I could.

When I look at your side of things, your thoughts and feelings on what transpired, I never know what hurts more, thinking that you never loved me at all, or thinking that it was so easy for you to fall out of love with me.

You broke me, Julie. And I hope someday, when perhaps life is done shitting on me constantly, and I'm happy and with someone who loves me the way I deserve to be loved, you realize that you tore apart another person's life because you couldn't handle being broken on your own. Because I didn't deserve this. Just know that you tore apart my life, made me feel worthless and useless and hated, constantly belittled me and made me feel like a fool, all for a guy that's not even on the planet anymore.


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