I am not the result of the past
I am not the result of the abuse
But
I am the result of the future
And I am the result of who I pretend to be.

Why did I think this time was
any different?
I should of known he was too good to be
true...
And I should of known there's no way
he'd fall for a girl like me.

He's funny, adventurous, sweet. caring and
everything I'm not.
He makes me feel so **** special and makes
me feel like I actually have a chance...
Then he makes it pretty clear that even if I did
he wouldn't actually fall for me...

Why do I always do this to myself?
I thought this time was genuinely different,
but of course it's not...

Take my joy.
I don't care.
I'm broken and hopelessly drained.
I don't wanna get up.
There's no point.

I'm distant because I'm scared.
I'm scared you'll uncover the worst parts of myself.
The parts of myself that dwell in self destruction and wallow in self pity.
The parts that I have no control over.

"When was the last time you ate over five hundred calories?
Or took the day off from the gym?
You've been shrinking day after day,
Month after month.
Soon to be nothing but bones buried in the dirt.
You have so much to live for,
Yet you starve for perfection and continue slowly killing yourself.
Why?
You're perfect the way you are!"
They say.
"No one could ever fulfill the place you have in this world!"
They say.
But the sad truth is that someone can and they will.
As much as I'd like to believe I'm special and unique I am disposable, just like everyone else.
Sure my family and friends will be sad for a few days and maybe even months or years,
but people move on.
And as sad as it is,
I have too.