Just to change the scene up a bit, I'll move on to something almost completely different... -thinking up a code name for someone-....
I forget what I used to call him..
Right, so.. this guy I used to date, called Chris, kind of.. killed me.
And I just came across our old messages and thought I was going to puke.
(They weren't loving in any way, I wasn't... romantically-sickened I was just disgusted..)
When I met him he self-harmed, when I 'broke his heart' he self-harmed, when I spoke to him a few months later he self-harmed and so on and so forth.
I became his friend because of my attraction to trouble - we started dating because of my stupid vague fear of hurting him back then.
Now I'm frazzled. It's all in my head.
Calls to childline and crying to friends.. texting someone because he said he'd just... done something horrific with his dad's switchblade(?).
All lies. Everything that dripped from that slimy deceitful mouth of his was a filthy lie.
I can't think straight.
And my hands are cold.. one hand is cold.. -shrug-
I remember how much I cared about him as a close friend, I could have been his f*cking mother for all the help she gave when he eventually got caught (I think)..
And I remember telling my mum.
Just another self-harmer.
I acted like it wasn't important... and in the call to childline.. the person at the end of the phone asked if I was 'my friend' and I was completely horrified. I would never do a thing like that. "I don't have the courage". Always "I don't have the courage." like it's a good thing to be able to drag a blade through your skin or rip your skin with your nail. Like it's a good thing to hurt your friends like that.
And she did it too. Self-harm. Not her who everybody would assume that is.. because I dated him so I dated her.. no, not her. I know so many girls who have.. who do.. who can't help it.
Anything damn sharp.
A cheese grater.
Chris brings everything back.
Back to year eight when everything was wonderful until he came along and then.. him.. and his girlfriend.. and her best friend.. and then her and her and..
And when I found out about her I just s-screamed..
It used to hurt to think of them.. now it's more hollow. And I know that's cliche but it is. It's like there's just this hole.. dug into my chest.. on the right side though, I'm not talking about my heart.
I don't know what the purpose of this was.. I think I just needed to.. talk cr*p..
Like I do all the time..