J
Jxliee
Guest
I lie in bed. Staring at a screen. My heart sore, from the recent cracks which have formed. I feel so blank.
The only thoughts I have are plain, I feel so alone. My eyes are stinging from crying. I don’t know why I was crying. I guess I haven’t experienced a rejection like this. I mean, I have, but it still hurts more than usual.
No I’m not talking about a rejection from someone I think I love. This is a different rejection, that usually I can handle. I can’t understand why it hurts. Have I become so absorbed in this fake reality? Wow, I’m weak, fragile, flat, and sensitive.
I mean I am, inside. I don’t like to show it. I don’t want people to help me. I don’t want strangers to help me.
I’m sore.
I look in the mirror, and attempt to breathe, staring at my reflection, unsatisfied. What else would I be at this point.
People call me pretty, gorgeous, stunning, hilarious, and talented. You act is if I’m perfect.
That’s what you probably say. But in reality everyone treats me like a child, immature, stupid and a waster of time.
Suddenly I began to think. Why do you think that. Thoughts rush throughout my head, my head aching again, but it makes me think.
‘Is it because I’m not mature to you? Is it because I’m not good enough? Is it because you think, that this act is real? Who are you to tell me who I am? You don’t know how much pain goes into my days, how many times I cry when I’m alone. You don’t see when I look into a mirror and try to to cover up your face, because I’m so scared, because you fear that everyone hates me. You don’t see I fake laugh at every joke, knowing it’s not genuine.
You don’t know the pain of going through past messages, reading the same words which tell a horrible end. You don’t have to come home to see someone you love in so much pain all the time, hate you for not giving them attention, because you’re so distant and lost that it comes across that way. I do that all the time. You don’t see the scars I have inside and out that I hide.
You don’t know I say ‘yes’ to everyone, because I’m too scared to reject someone, you don’t know how much I try to pretend, and because I do, in the end, I make myself believe it was real, even though it wasn’t. You don’t know how many times my heart has been shattered, because of it. You don’t see how bad my trust issues are at this point. You don’t see how much I struggle, wanting to spill it to my friends I’ve made here. You don’t see how people I care about always leave me, because of things on a screen, that I can’t help with, because you see me as trouble. You see me as immature. You see me as a nobody.
You don’t see how bad I am, and even if you have, you keep your distance.
I ask if something is fine, which I know is, but apparently because I’m me, it’s not okay.’
Why do you pretend, I rather feel like you hate me then feel lied to. I rather know the truth then always to feel anxiety when I enter this website, this game, that I thought was safe.
You act is if I am paper, blank and thin...
...and Unimportant.
I’m the little paper girl.
The only thoughts I have are plain, I feel so alone. My eyes are stinging from crying. I don’t know why I was crying. I guess I haven’t experienced a rejection like this. I mean, I have, but it still hurts more than usual.
No I’m not talking about a rejection from someone I think I love. This is a different rejection, that usually I can handle. I can’t understand why it hurts. Have I become so absorbed in this fake reality? Wow, I’m weak, fragile, flat, and sensitive.
I mean I am, inside. I don’t like to show it. I don’t want people to help me. I don’t want strangers to help me.
I’m sore.
I look in the mirror, and attempt to breathe, staring at my reflection, unsatisfied. What else would I be at this point.
People call me pretty, gorgeous, stunning, hilarious, and talented. You act is if I’m perfect.
That’s what you probably say. But in reality everyone treats me like a child, immature, stupid and a waster of time.
Suddenly I began to think. Why do you think that. Thoughts rush throughout my head, my head aching again, but it makes me think.
‘Is it because I’m not mature to you? Is it because I’m not good enough? Is it because you think, that this act is real? Who are you to tell me who I am? You don’t know how much pain goes into my days, how many times I cry when I’m alone. You don’t see when I look into a mirror and try to to cover up your face, because I’m so scared, because you fear that everyone hates me. You don’t see I fake laugh at every joke, knowing it’s not genuine.
You don’t know the pain of going through past messages, reading the same words which tell a horrible end. You don’t have to come home to see someone you love in so much pain all the time, hate you for not giving them attention, because you’re so distant and lost that it comes across that way. I do that all the time. You don’t see the scars I have inside and out that I hide.
You don’t know I say ‘yes’ to everyone, because I’m too scared to reject someone, you don’t know how much I try to pretend, and because I do, in the end, I make myself believe it was real, even though it wasn’t. You don’t know how many times my heart has been shattered, because of it. You don’t see how bad my trust issues are at this point. You don’t see how much I struggle, wanting to spill it to my friends I’ve made here. You don’t see how people I care about always leave me, because of things on a screen, that I can’t help with, because you see me as trouble. You see me as immature. You see me as a nobody.
You don’t see how bad I am, and even if you have, you keep your distance.
I ask if something is fine, which I know is, but apparently because I’m me, it’s not okay.’
Why do you pretend, I rather feel like you hate me then feel lied to. I rather know the truth then always to feel anxiety when I enter this website, this game, that I thought was safe.
You act is if I am paper, blank and thin...
...and Unimportant.
I’m the little paper girl.
