Only way to write is with a beginning, I have plenty.

Plenty of Beginnings

I am tired. Tired of trying to "fix" others, and receiving no thanks. I feel guilty for using people as my exscape from my own problems, I try to stop myself from telling them I'm a safe person that they can talk to about anything, but I have lost control.
I lost control a long time ago, in fact I never had control over myself, actually that's inaccurate. I never had control over my thoughts.

I told this boy not long ago that he could talk to me and that I'd understand, and I did understand, I understood more than I wanted to. He told me he wasn't alone in his head and that this voice, with the same name as his father, was telling him to do things that would put people in physical pain. I told the boy that what he had sounded like schizophrenia, because I knew that's what he wanted to hear, then I suggested that he went to his doctor and explained to the doctor what he had to me. The boy doesn't have schizophrenia, I know that people with schizophrenia can't tell the false voices apart from the real voices. I haven't had a one on one conversation with the boy scince then. He attempted contact, and I've ignored him. He's no good.

I told this girl she could tell me anything. She told me almost everything. She told me about this boy, I knew the boy, I still do. I know him more than what I did before. The girl and the boy are too alike, that's why they don't work. They themselves physically, they hurt each other mentally. He looks at her as a possession, she does NOT look at him as an owner.
They are no good.

I was friends with a boy, he offered me cigs, I said yes. I snuck out and lied to my mum so I could see him. I was head over heals for him. He knew I was and took advantage of me. I was never in any physical danger, but inside I was screaming. I think he knew I had only good intentions towards people and he was gentle with me. He made it clear he didn't want a relationship so I wouldn't get hurt. I brought the hurt on myself. I gave him belongings of mine, he never returned them. I'd do what he said because I felt guilty if I didn't. He didn't feel guilt if I asked him of something and he said no. I admired that. He felt guilt once. I am sick of him and I told him to "F' off".
He was never good.

Those three people, boy no.1, girl no.1, and boy no.2, could be intire stories, I could write whole books on each character, but they are just beginnings. I cut them out of my life before I can finish the book on how I interact with them.
Those begginings are good, the people are no good.