My wrist is a mess. Not like they're even that big, Or deep. Just small and lots of them. It's the only way I feel I can deal with this. I've been so confused the past 4 or 5 days and I'm sick of crying. It's happening again. It's all beginning again.
I don't know if I can handle this a second time round. Maybe I'm just not meant to be happy.
Maybe I'm just not meant to survive.
Maybe I was supposed to die that night in December. And the safety and happiness that that night...