As the sharp blade digs into my skin, I didn't cry or scream. I actually felt relived. You can say I'm sick and twisted but it's not what it seems. It's what love has done to me. I thought I was loved, but it turns out he didn't love me. I'd do anything to try to make this love work. But it was only a dream. Romance had gotten to me.
Love, I believe in no more. For it was a terrible thing. It stings like a needle to my heart. Always there forever more. I'll live him until the day I die. It was the promise I made to him. Though he didn't love me back. I'd never be able to love again.
The blood continued to pour out my wrist as I thought about the love I'd never have. That's what started me to cry. I was alone in the world. My tears that mixed with the blood, it started to swirl. Almost like a relationship that was perfect, start out not knowing each other, turning into friends, then proceeding into lovers.
Just then, the man I loved came rushing though the front door. He grabbed the phone and called 9-1-1. Within minutes you could hear the wailing rushing sound of the speeding ambulance. I don't remember much after that, things became a blur.
The next thing I remember, lying down in bed, white sheets, beeps everywhere. Sirens blaring inside my head, people talking, deep voices, but one stood out most. It was someone crying, and asking beneath their breath.
It was quite soft; it was a cry, asking for forgiveness. The words in the sobs for help could be used as a dangerous weapon. Looking around, half conscious, for the weeping person.
"Hello?" I asked in a low, anxious voice.
The person who was crying was, my one and only love. He let out a sigh of relief and he hugged me tightly, yet he was still crying a bit.
"Why? Why did you do it?"
"Because, I thought I lost you forever." Was my response, in a low whisper as the ambulance stopped and the doors in front of me opened.
Drifting out of consciousness, I hear muffled talking, wheels rolling, beeping still, poundings of feet hitting the linoleum flooring.
I don't know what happened after that until the next morning. I woke up in a dazed and confused state. Still hearing that same cry as last night. Seeing the man I loved at the side of my bed, holding my hand.
He was crying, I didn't know what they had told him, but I did know one thing though. I love him, and I don't know if I'll make it though.
Finally he looked up to see I was awake. He kissed my forehead, and then my lips. You could see the tear streaks from his tear ducts down to his chin. He'd been crying for a while, you could tell he was afraid, just by the look in his eyes.
"Sweetheart, last night, do you remember what happened after you got in the ambulance that brought you here?"
"Ever so vaguely."
"Could you tell me what happened, of that you remember?"
"You asked me "why?" several times, and I don't remember replying, that's it really."
"Could your reply now?"
"I thought I lost you forever, I felt like we were falling apart."
"So cutting would solve it?"
"I wasn't cutting." I said in a deep low whispery voice.
He fell silent for a minute. Then said:
"So a suicide attempt?"
I nodded to agree with him.
"Sweetheart! Why? I love you!"
"It didn't feel like it."
"You were never there in the mornings, or afternoons after I came to meet you."
"I was talking to teachers sweetie."
"Every day for two years? I couldn't take it, I'm sorry."
"You did this because you didn't feel loved?"
"I lost faith in our love, I'm sorry."
"It's just…I can't explain it."
He nodded in acknowledgment, but I don't believe he truly understood where I was coming from.
He sat down next to me, on my bed, careful of my wrist. I looked into his eyes. His eyes appeared to be paler than normal. He wasn't the same person I fell in love with. He's changed, and too much for comfort. He just wasn't the same man I fell in love with two years ago.
A few moments later a nurse said I was free to go home, I nodded, so did he. He grabbed my things, waited for me to get dressed and we walked out together. I didn't have the heart to tell him what was on my mind. So I'd wait a while, a few days, a few weeks, a few months maybe, and tell him my thoughts, but now wasn't the right time to tell him.
A few months later…
It's been a few months sense my accident with a knife. I have finally decided now is the time to tell him. Now he spends more time with me, but now it's too late.
"Sweetheart, we need to talk."
"Sure Sweetie, be there in a minute."
He came, and we sat down in a secluded area so we could talk.
"What's on your mind, Sweetie?" He said with a sparkle in his eye.
My mind is screaming "NO! DON'T FALL FOR HIM AGAIN, THIS IS HOW IT HAPPENED LAST TIME! HE SWEETALKED YOU INTO LOVING HIM, THEN LEFT YOU OUT IN THE COLD FOR TWO YEARS! DO YOU REALLY WANT THAT TO HAPPEN TO YOU AGAIN?! DON'T FALL FOR HIM AGAIN! PLEASE DON'T YOU CAN'T PUT YOUR SELF THOUGH THAT AGAIN!"
My heart is calmly saying "Don't listen to your brain, listen to your heart, you love him, he loves you, it's obvious. He spends more time with you; he says what you want to hear from him. He's changed! Just give him another chance dear."
"I think we should break up." My mind won, nothing my heart could say to talk me out of it.
"What?" He asked slightly confused.
"I think we should break up, I mean…Things have been rough, we both know that. But I don't think it's going to work."
"But I cared for you when you had an accident, Sweetie, I thought we were over that."
"You are, I'm not."
" Can I have some more reasons?"
"You aren't the same man I fell in love with two years ago, you've changed. I've changed; I'm not the same girl you fell in love with either. I'm turning Goth; you're turning sort of.. Preppy, and Goth and prep don't mix, dear."
"Sorry, but I've got to trust my instinct on this one.. I just don't think it's going to work."
My heart is now begging, "DON'T END IT NOW, AND DON'T END IT EVER. HE'S A GREAT GUY! LOVE IS ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES!"
My mind is now the calm one, "He'll just hurt her again if she keeps this relationship going. So it's a GOOD thing they are breaking up, don't you see that?!"
"But it's what I think is best for the both of us."
I hugged him and then said,
"We can still be friends though."
He nodded, and that was the end of a two-year relationship. One that was voted most likely to stay together forever. It didn't, and I'm glad it didn't.
Looking back now, I never did talk to him again, and each day that scar on my wrist burns, as it slowly transfers to my heart. I miss him dearly; I just wish it had worked. Hopefully his life is better going than mine. Also I wish him the best, and may he always be caring no matter what. Now I rest peacefully, in this cherry wood casket. I slowly diminish into nothing. An eternal sleep, where my soul can reflect on life. I may be dead… But my soul isn't.