Charlie’s home, right now.  But, he seems pretty distant tonight.  Which sucks because it’s been a terrible day.  I can’t remember the last time I wanted to hurt myself this much.  I’ve always had a certian cowardice about suicide, no matter how much I wanted it, but cutting myself…  that’s different. I can’t explain why, or what I get out of it, but things get so bad, sometimes, and when there’s nothing holding me together inside (like the stability of having a foundation – like some kind of lasting love, or source of happiness), I just want to put all the damage I feel on the inside, on the surface, where it’s concrete.  Maybe, that way, I feel like it’s not just in my head, anymore.  But, those kind of wounds heal.  Sure, you get scars, but even scars fade.  Most of mine have…  because, I haven’t been a practicing cutter in a long time.  My first summer with Charlie (my Pug), he busted into the bathroom, and took a knife out of my hand, and made me promise to stop.  No threats…  no ultimatums…  he just asked me to make this promise, because I loved him.  I loved him enough to make that promise, even though it seemed impossible at the time.  And, I’ve loved him enough to keep it, for the most part.  I’ve only broken my word twice in seven years.  Both times, I did it because I thought I was losing him.  It was like my whole life was slipping away.  This last time, I only stopped myself from spiralling down that path because I knew it would alienate Charlie even more.  And, killing myself seemed like the cruelest thing I could do to him.  But, I don’t know how to live without him, just so he can feel better about being me alive.  I’ve always been a wreck.  I’ve gotten a lot worse in recent years, but at this point, this relationship is my center.  It’s  the starting and ending point pf everything I give a damn about.  I see everything in terms of how it affects us.  I’m not sure I could stand losing him. 

But, I can’t talk about suicide, because he’ll just think I’m trying to manipulate him.  (Like, threatening to kill myself if he leaves, or something.)  But, right now…  I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us, or to me.

I just miss the life I had before it all got this fucked up.  It was fucked up before, but at least I was happy.  Crazy…  but happy…


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