or: this is the way my blood runs and this is the way i fall

Laura teaches the exact opposite of what the title suggests
(or do they?)

One. Rerun their words.

Pretend everything they say is gospel - after all, you're the freak, the one that always eats alone at lunch when you eat at all. They won't stop, so you might as well just put up with it. Even better, take it to heart.

Two: change. Bend yourself until you break and then bend farther. They won't ever be satisfied until you're in pieces, so just do their dirty work for them. Twist and pull and punch at yourself until you resemble something just a little harder to hate. Then proceed to hate yourself even more.

Three. Bleed out the pain. It's won't stop, the echoes of all the things you did wrong, will do wrong, every little thing they point out about you that deserves to be carved out of your skin. Take a knife to your unforgiving body and cut their criticisms into your flesh. Let blood run from your veins until maybe it doesn't hurt so much. Wait for the foggy feeling you get when you cut too deep and bleed too much and then wait a little more. Only stop when you don't know who you are anymore.

Four - 

Love someone so much that it tears you apart.

Love them so much and then don't let them love you back. Leave when they tell you. Regret every moment you didn't stay, regret every moment you let them kiss your broken self and try to mend you. You are unfixable. They are unbreakable. You wish them all the happiness in the world, even though you know none of that will be yours. Call them one day, and make yourself listen as they list all the reasons you are no better than the dirt under their feet and repeat to yourself the word they call you: unlovable. Everything everyone has ever called you and meant begins with the prefix 'un'. You are empty, and you never want to fall in love again.

Disobey yourself and fall in love again. Watch as they leave you, find them in bed with another and blame yourself. Let them blame you too. Listen to the things they call you and add them to the list of things that make you worth nothing, beginning with the word 'unlovable'. When they leave, cry. Cry and bleed because there is nothing else you can do.

Five: stop caring. Dig grim acceptance out of the holes in your bones and fill your ribcage with an emptiness to rival the vastness of space. It doesn't go away. It doesn't ever go away. And when you have finally isolated yourself so much that your skin ices over with frost and everything is so awfully cold and you are so awfully alone, slot the sadness into the gaps between the knobs of your spine like SD cards into cameras waiting to be slit with thin and watered-down memories.

Use your shoulder-blades to slice their fingertips when they try to touch you, taste their blood on the bruises ringing your throat and sinking deep into the punched-out crescents that crater your eyes into your face. Shuttering, stuttering, shaking, quaking, this is your life now. Yell and scream and shout and- six, find someone who will take care of you. Who loves you beyond your flaws and beyond the twisted ideal of fixing someone broken.

You will always be afraid that they will leave. The only thing keeping you alive, seeping that microscopic sliver of self-love into your darkened veins, is the fact that they haven't.


The End

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