someone_save_me
July 5th, 2011, 02:47 PM
I've always been different from the others. I was the one that would go and play on her own at break time even though she had loads of friends. I was the one who just wanted to run and never stop. I used to spend my 30 minute lunch breaks running around. People stared at me, people laughed but I didn't care!
I was the best at story writing, I have such a vivid and wild imagination. I can just write for hours and hours.
And since my father passed away, I spend all my free time just daydreaming. Well, that's what it used to be like.
I have had my heart broken previously and when I finally decided to trust this guy and take the risk of loving him with all my heart, he threw it back in my face. We had everything, things were perfect. I was so happy. But 2 days after my birthday he ended it and we haven't spoken since. That was about 3 weeks ago and since then, I've just started hating myself. I don't get on that great with my mum, my best friend is ALWAYS with her boyfriend and the guy I loved is out partying every night and hitting on random girls. While I sit here, in my room, cutting up my arms with a compas. It kills me to imagine him with someone else and every time I do, the cuts get deeper.
I was the best at story writing, I have such a vivid and wild imagination. I can just write for hours and hours.
And since my father passed away, I spend all my free time just daydreaming. Well, that's what it used to be like.
I have had my heart broken previously and when I finally decided to trust this guy and take the risk of loving him with all my heart, he threw it back in my face. We had everything, things were perfect. I was so happy. But 2 days after my birthday he ended it and we haven't spoken since. That was about 3 weeks ago and since then, I've just started hating myself. I don't get on that great with my mum, my best friend is ALWAYS with her boyfriend and the guy I loved is out partying every night and hitting on random girls. While I sit here, in my room, cutting up my arms with a compas. It kills me to imagine him with someone else and every time I do, the cuts get deeper.