Why do I cut myself? Oh, I know. I get angry easily. So, in order to relieve this anger, I do like to cut myself. I find the blade to be more fitting on the wrist as it is more sensitive. Maybe a few cuts here and there would suffice and I'm back. As a matter of fact, I'm not just back. I stop caring. Once the blood seeps out of the wound, I feel better because I no longer care. Care. Who cares? I don't any more. I ceased to expect anything positive any longer. Maybe I shouldn't even have a boyfriend any longer just so the anger stops. I get angry because of him. Because of him I feel powerless and stupid. Undefined. I feel powerless. When I cut myself, I somehow feel more calm and collected. I don't want to go out any more. What's the point? I'm always surrounded by so many bad things that could happen so why should I subject myself to those things?
I got ready today and felt nice. I didn't expect anything. I did in my mind, but I didn't allow myself to become the target of yet another let-down. I did feel nice. I looked nice. I really tried, I did. I curled my hair. I showered. I shaved. I used really good-smelling shampoo and conditioner. I spent time with my make-up trying to perfect it for him. Three times. Three times he said he couldn't make it and three times I spent hours getting ready. I'm getting sick and fucking tired of it. Sure, I may be overdoing it, but I can't handle the fact that people can't remember a single fucking thing thus making me go out of my way for nothing. Now he'd like to hang out on Sunday. Fuck Sunday. Monday? Fuck Monday. The rest of the vacation? I've got other fucking plans.
I'm not even on my period so obviously this is coming from me. I get butt hurt easily. I get angry and frustrated easily. Why couldn't he just tell me no instead of keeping me hanging? I knew I shouldn't expect anything. How did I fucking know he would bail on me? How the fuck did I pissing know...
