So much has happened since I talked to you. It has been about 5 days, but alot has happened in those 5 days. Too many things make me regret my choices. But there are some things that I know that I don't regret.
~Happy Valentine's Day. <33 I hope that I have someone to spend today with. Hopefully the guy I like. :) I guess I'll see what happens.
I have lunch next, and I get to see the guy that I like. Hopefully I sit by him. And hopefully he asks me out. That'd be nice, wouldn't it? I would be happy. And I know that you shouldn't base your happiness off of a person, but when that person means so much to you, then you base your emotions off them. Although the feelings that I'm feeling, some are good, and some are bad. I have something for you guys to read.
~
How many cuts could I count? How many could I place in time and context? I had to admit that I couldn’t remember the occasion of almost any of them, their catalysts, whether epic or mundane, completely obscured by time. So many moments of supposedly unendurable pain, now utterly forgotten. You start to think,
Maybe I don’t need this anymore. Maybe I never did.
I stopped cutting because I always could have stopped cutting; that’s the plain and inelegant truth. No matter how compelling the urge, the act itself was always a choice. I had no power over the urge. I had no power over the flood tide of emotions that drove me to that brink, but I had the power to decide whether or not to step over. Eventually I decided not to.
Stopping, however, was not at all the same thing as ending the desire. Even now, I still sometimes ache with a fierce, organic need for cutting’s seductive, minimalist simplicity. I expect that I will always be the kind of person who is too much aware of the boundlessness of chaos; it’s like having an unfortunate sixth sense, alive to the teeming, invisible undercurrents of anarchy streaming past us as every moment. I don’t say it makes me stronger, or more interesting, or gives me character; it’s just a part of my fabric of self.
~
There you go. What do you think? That pretty much describes what I'm feeling like. And I know that cutting is not how someone should get rid of the feelings that their feeling, but I still do it. I still cut myself, and I still hurt people. And I feel so bad for doing it, so why do I do it?