Hailey

The Cutting Diary
2011-01-05 02:54:48 (UTC)

Let it Die

January 4th, 2011. 8:21 PM

It's the new year bitches.

Time for change.

Change of pace.
Change of life.
Change of living.

Oh fuck, who am I kidding. Nothing ever changes, not really.

However, change is not the reason for this entry, or is it?

Don't you just fucking love my shallow attempts at being deep?

Last night, around one AM or so, Bridgette texted me, lamenting over
not being able to sleep.

"I hate staying up so late, I start missing things I shouldn't be
missing."

Knowing this particular book by heart, I told her of my techniques.
Listen to music, read, fiddle on the computer (what works best).

"This is what I do to ignore my coulda shoulda woulda's"

She then asked me to tell her one of mine, but I misunderstood her
question (honestly! I did! she never elaborates in text, and just
assumes I know what the fuck she is talking about).

But what would I of told her if I hadn't misunderstood?

Would I of told her that I could weave a tapestry out of all of
my 'coulda woulda shoulda's" from just this week, and that tapestry
would be able to cover all of Tennessee?

Would I of told her that at least once a day, I wonder why I
continue on like this? Why do I keep trying to do well in school,
even though I'm not able to go to my dream college that requires
good grades. Why am I in the play this year? Yes, last year was fun,
but, through the play, I got to know a person that simultaneously
threw me back into being a cynical, reclusive bitch and caused the
most self-destructive moment of my life (cutting doesn't count).
Why, dear God, why do I keep faking like I'm ok, even though I'm not
and it's taking a lot longer than normal for me to get back to a
long-term state of fine?

Would I of told her that she should see me naked sometime, so she
could see plenty of 'coulda shoulda woulda's' expressed.

No, I wouldn't of told her any of that. I would of kept my mouth
shut and of pretended to fall asleep, or I would of given an evasive
and shady answer.

Why? Because she would make me explain. This is also the reason
Bridgette doesn't know I cut.

I hate explaining. I don't want to have to sit someone down and give
them a play by play of my emotions so they can attempt to understand
why it's hard for me to get out of bed in the morning. I don't want
to have to try to give a logical reason for feeling this way.

I know she wont understand, at least not on this level. Whenever she
gets sad, it's because of some stupid jackass guy that she should
just leave alone.

I know that if, for whatever reason, Bridgette does find out about
my cutting, and even worse, that Melissa knew, she will be hurt
beyond all imagine.

"So you can tell Melissa, but not me?"

Yes, I can tell Melissa, but not you, because Melissa, unlike you,
knows when to keep her fucking mouth shut. She knows when not to
ask, and she know not to pester me about it, like I know you would
do.

What? You wouldn't pester me you say? You'd never make me talk about
something I'm not comfortable talking about out loud?

You are wrong my-lady, for if you didn't do this, you wouldn't make
me talking about Kyle so fucking much.

Shit, I'm going out of control here, and I really need to save and
go.

I love Bridgette, I do, I just can't...




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