Love, Heartache, and Self Mutilation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story will share what I've been going through for the past few years.

Submitted: April 07, 2010

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Submitted: April 07, 2010

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I fell in love for the first time. In 7th grade. I t hought he was the most amazing guy in the world. Yes, me and him would have arguments, every couple does. All the arguing would be about something HE did, and he would always find a way to turn the story around and put all the blame on me. He'd make me feel so guilty. And yet I lvoed him with all my heart. This is a true story and I'm pouring my heart out right now. On Feb. 13, we shared our first kiss. On Feb 14, he made me a Valentine's Day card. I swear, I must of been the happiest girl in the world. But, then Feb. 15 came along. That's when I wanted to die. We were in school. He wrote me a note, saying that he didn't want anything to do with me. That we were done. That hurt. That was the first time I had my heart broken. That break up hurt so bad, I didn't know what else to do. I was depressed, staying in my room every single day, listening to sad, slow songs. I'd cry myself to sleep every night. Then I found a way to cope. I had went to the bathroom and found a sharp razor. I brought it to my skin. I pushed deep, hard, until i saw blood. I dont know why, but it felt good. In 9th grade, the grade Im in now, was when I cut the most. Not over the same guy, but over a different one, who I thought was my world. Everyone else saw all the bad in him, while all I saw was the good. But he caused me pain, and he left me isolated. He left me humiliated. He had been pressuring me for weeks to send him a nude photo. And I gave in. The next day EVERYONE, I mean EVERYONE at school found out about the picture. You don't even know how embarrassed and hurt I felt. It even got to the point where I had to miss a day of school. Everyone was talking about me. You don't know how terrible that feels, walking down the hallways, KNOWING that their are people in back of you talking, whispering things about you. The boy broke my heart. Into a million pieces. I never in my life felt so broken. Cutting was one of my two ways to cope. The other was songwriting. I wrote my first song in the 6th grade. I always thought of my songs as poems. They tell a story. I write about boys, specifically those who broke my heart. Singing is my passion, and being a singer is what I wanted to be since I was in about 3rd grade. I'm really hoping that all my praying and hoping will pay off so, in time, I can accomplish my dream. I'm hoping that my songs will touch someones heart. I want to believe that their are girls all around the world who are going through the same thing as me. I want those girls to know that they're not alone. It's now 2010. It's been about a month that I haven't cut. I really want to, but what's the use? All it leaves is scabs and memories. Yes, I'm still in love with the boy. But whats the point of loving someone if he never even loved you back? I don't know why, but when it comes to boys, I always wear my heart on my sleeve. I fall in love way too fast. This...was my story.


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