My bestfriend stopped speaking to me.
My bestfriend.
The person who has held me in my darkest moments for the past three years.
The one who got me through everything I went through last year.
He stopped speaking to me.
There was no fight.
He just stopped.
It's been almost a whole month now.
I pretend as though I don't care.
That it doesn't bother me.
Yet.
I miss him in every moment.
I miss his inappropriate comments.
How he could turn the simplest statement into some ****** joke.
I miss the way he always bribed me to clean his room.
I miss the way he was always there.
For the past three years he has always been there.
In return I always tried my hardest to do the same.
Now he's not.
The money I had saved up for his birthday is just sitting there.
I don't know if I'll ever get him back.
And now there is a picture of us as the background on my phone.
Torturing me.
I'm torturing myself and he's probably asleep.
We agreed to never leave each other like everyone else has.
We agreed to love each other when we had nobody else to love us.
So where is he.
Doesn't he realize he did the exact same thing as him.
He broke all of his promises.
He broke my heart in a way it's never broken before.

It's all just so amusing.
My family still asks me about you.
They ask how you're doing,
Or if we've talked.
They ask about you moving to Rhode Island.
Your grandfather still sends your mom home with popcorn for me.
Your step dad gives me rides home from work.
I still call your mom when I'm freaking out and need someone to talk to.
Your sister still likes my photos on Facebook.
Your younger brother video called me last night to show me how big the new puppy has gotten.
And it's all so amusing to me.
We are not apart of each others lives at all anymore.
However, we are still covering each other's worlds.
I guess this is what happens when you become one with someone so intensely.  
You can never completely leave behind the connections you created together.
The bonds you created with the people who matter most to the other.

I've gained sanity and peace of mind though lost almost everything else in the process.
Now I'm left here asking
"Was it worth it? Would I do it all again if given the choice?"
And I've come to realize I would.
I would do everything exactly the same.
No matter how many opportunities I was given.
I wouldn't change a single decision because every choice I've made,
no matter how horrible has led me here.
I've been led to this exact moment.
I've been led to you.
The girl smiling back at me through the mirror.

I did it again.
I picked up the blade and played that game of tic tac toe.
I stained my fingers with the ****** ink.
Dragging the blade back and forth till I felt drunk on the cuts.
Till I felt numb from the pain.
The mental pain I'm drowning in.
The pain caused from missing a boy who no longer exists.
Missing a girl who died with her child.
Missing the family that left when her mother walked out the door.
The pain caused from the anxiety left on me.
The anxiety of never knowing who to talk to or where I belong.
If I still have people in my life to lean on.
However that's probably partially my fault.
I the girl who never stops speaking...
No longer even tries to speak to those I care for.
I can't.
My blade has become my bestfriend tonight.
And I don't think any of them would understand.
So here I sit.
Laying on the floor of my closet.
An ace bandage wrapped around my thigh.
Hiding my newest game of tic tac toe.
As I write you this poem.

I'm laying on the ground.
No singular thought to be found inside the chaos of my mind.
I'm laying here with my favorite song on repeat.
I'm laying here in wait.
I'm ready.
I'm ready to be with the shooting stars.
I begin to make my journey to the sky.
Yet, someone's in my path.
Death is standing infront of me laughing.
"It's not your time foolish girl. You may be ready... But I'm not. Now wait."

I'm sitting here in the same spot I have sat hundreds of times before with memories taking over my mind. Thinking back to a happier time.
A time with you sitting next to me with a talon in your hand.