Victim 3443

Girl wearing Tear Stained shirt and a Morphine Drip
Whose diary I snatched..

I have gone through all the pages. It was painful. Listening to her words without my inane inserts brings tears to my eyes…

Her opening line was:

I’m writing this so I have something to laugh about in a couple of months. Once I have realized I’m okay, I’ll find this all funny.

I thought alcohol was supposed to make you numb, at least for the time being. Or maybe I wasn’t drunk enough. I didn’t think it allows all the things that you are so good at suppressing to surface. It hurts to be drunk.

Just like thinking about you hurts like hell. Usually, putting pain in words helps. Sort of starts the healing process. This is going to be one long and painful process. And it hasn’t even started yet.

I want to regret a lot of things. I want to regret not being aware. I want to regret not seeing the signs. Want to regret putting off building that wall until I cant even bring myself to draw the line.

I want to hate myself. I want to hate myself more. i want to hate myself for letting myself fall. I want to hate myself for thinking I can manage. Want to hate myself for writing this.

I could not bring myself to regret everything. I could not hate myself more than I already do. I do not want to lose the memory of you and my stint with happiness.


Second…how unlucky

It took a decade to finally want to erase that friendship line I draw around everyone I meet. To meet someone I’ll gladly cross the line for while at the same time being aware of how painful it’s going to end. This is the closest it has felt to the last time. No, I’m not in love. Thank God, or I don’t know if I’ll be capable of writing this had it come to that. Doesn’t matter though. It hurts like hell, still.

I miss being behind the safety of my wall where it’s easier not to get hurt.

I agree with her. A wall is a very convenient way of not being hurt. Also, the easiest way to not be anything at all. That diary of hers has plenty of more painful and tear stained entries. Once I get around to transcribing them I’ll post them here.

I hope this diary has a part two though because I’m not seeing anything that says…

I’m laughing at how sappy and sad I was in my previous entries.