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You hurt me and I feel like you hate me and I hate that I always end up being the one crawling back to you even though I'm the end I always ended up leaving again with the idea that things would be better off without me. I can't tell you anything because you think it's just guilt trip and if I try to bring it up when we aren't fighting, I can never find the guts because I'm not sure what is say after that I'm in scared about how you'd react because any time I try to be open a bout my feelings or ask for help it never goes anywhere and maybe that's because I deserve to suffer.
You call me childish and petty. You tell me to grow up. Yeah, Ok. Let's see. I'm biting my nails over figuring out what to do it the girls in the looker room see the cuts on my leg that I put there because of how -you- made me feel. I was sexually assaulted by my Father, who was my fucking anchor until I found out just how bad he really was (which finding those things out tore me apart because I had trusted/loved him for so long). All my closest friends are messed up and I always sit back and listen to there problems and feel selfish for even thinking about telling someone about mine. You are one of those friends and your my "best" friends. You're my fucking twin. All this and guess what? I am 12 years old. 12. Kids out age shouldn't have to worry about these things or suffer in silence like I do. We were robbed of our childhoods. We were forced to grow up before we were ready. Maybe I just want to hold onto whatever I still have because I have no one to turn to and that makes me afraid of growing up. When you're a adult and you're on your on your own, you're supposed to be able to deal with these things with the help of someone else. Who the -hell- do I have to turn to because by the time I'm a adult I'll be distant from everyone, I won't be able to stand up for myself, and I'll be chasing the approval of literally anyone who has the capability of making me feel like I am worth something even if that person is just using me or their abusive or whatever.
I'll cling on to anything I can get.
Because I'm not ready.
I'd rather kill myself than be forced around and pushed into this world in not ready for.
I'm sorry Momma
I'm sorry.
This isn't a suicide note.
I'm just sorry I've been such a disappointment all these years.
I'm a goddamn mess
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