my addiction

When you're in love you appreciate the small things. the things that to anyone else, are everyday. The way she blinked at the morning suns rays was my favourite. I'll never forget those sweet eyes, and the spells they're capable of cursing with a single glance. I fell for her. And I fell hard. But when no one was there to catch me I done some daft stuff, stuff I don't want to regret because it was all for her! but I know these scars will live on my skin for as long as I last in this cruel, blind world. I needed a hand to grasp when I cried, a finger tip to wipe the tears from my eyes; but no matter how hard I screamed, no one would even look up from their lives...I was alone and in love. The worst kind. She abused my everything as I laid it out In front of her; only when everything I could give in life became my life it's self, did she hold me and tell me "no!". I took the pills but my body kept rising as I breathed in what I hoped to be my last breath. But I guess some things just aren't meant to be. My lost life, her destroying love. I literally cried for help to my brain! But it just wouldn't listen! It was as caught up in amelias beauty as I was...
  But now I have the most amazing, incredible, beautiful man in the world in my arms, and he will be mine forever, it's a different love i have for him. This one is based on true happiness. I've swapped my screams for smiles, my cuts for care and those pills for passion, I can't even begin to describe him. He is my everything and more, and I know this time if I die for the one i love, it won't be a messed up mistake, he is worth it. Never has he brought me any pain, and i truly believe he never will. When I see him i see a future, with Amelia I saw opportunities to end it all.
     I was fucked in the head and I'll admit that now; but at the time I was blind. I done the stupid and wasn't satisfied, so i moved on to the un thinkable. Suicide was my every woken thought. I couldn't bare to be breathing. I'd get an ill jealousy of the dead, I'd prey to be them. I was in such a dark place not even the light from the morning sun that once held the memories of the 24th of august could dry my tears. And the more I stared at it the more my desperation to be nothing grew. I was stuck. What was i meant to do? I had become too scared, too scared to live, too scared to die, too scared to love, too scared to even care.
    I'll never fully understand why I did the stuff I did; and if I can't, the person behind the thoughts, how on earth will anyone else? At the time I had very little hope in moving on. Every breathe I took was for her heart only yet at the same time I did it for each and every pill, it gave them something to destroy. And when they finally started slowly crippling my insides, I felt the most excruciating pain I've ever felt.
     I use to look at those with the scars of a troubled past and judge them, assume they were all the same; attention seeking emos. But the fonder I grew of Amelia the more I shared with them. I started with a tiny cut, nothing major or deep, but the warm sensation I received from my body in the following minutes was, to this day, in describable. I was hooked...
  As my addiction for Amelia grew so did the number of cuts on my body. It was forever rising and I had no escape from the bittersweet pain my blade caused me. As time went on I started to notice my skin dealt with scar tissue very easily and no matter how long or deep I dug my scissors the damage it done in the long run was very little. After a week or two of scabby lines patterning my body, they'd disappear as though nothing was ever there. The feeling of knowing no one would ever discover my twisted habits only attract me to it more. I felt free to do what ever I liked, I didn't need to worry about being accepted or patronised. It was my own little secret. But soon long parallel lines turned to sick messages that I'd carve slowly into my skin to make sure every detail was right. I got such an incredible feeling from it I done it all the time for weeks, it was only when I realised "I love you", my first written message, was no longer a scab but rather a scar did I realise I'd crossed the line. Not a single one of my messages to my self left me, and I have them scattered all around my body for everyone to see. It embarrasses me. I hate the attention and stares they bring me.
   I can't be the only one who finds comfort in empty space. Don't you ever get that feeling where you don't want to talk to anybody? You don't want to smile and you don't want to fake being happy. But at the same time you don't know exactly what's wrong either. There isn't a way to explain it to someone who doesn't already understand. Sometimes if i could have anything in the world it would be to be alone. People have stopped being comforting and being alone never was. At least when I'm alone no ones constantly asking me what is wrong and there isn't anyone who won't take 'I don't know' for an answer. I feel the way I do just because i do, simple. I hope the feeling will pass soon and that i will be able to be myself again, but until then all i can do is wait. Maybe make another cut to pass the time. In the moment you feel so alone, like no one in the whole world would understand, but to think there is 7 billion of us out there somewhere, someone must think like me. I'm not the first person to fall in love in with a bitch. There are more of us.
    I can  garentee you my life, I am over her. I'm just fed up of what she's left of me, a weak little girl who can't seem to accept love like I should. It makes me so angry at my self and the cycle just starts over. I cant get over my addiction for cutting no matter what, Amelia has literally drained everything out of me, all my hope, trust, happiness, and life. And I will never, ever, forgive her for it.