Do you know what if feels like to lose faith in everything and everyone? To feel like everybody is just tricking you into thinking that they like you when in reality they're all conspiring against you. To feel like crawling up in a ball and ceasing to exist.
Well, that's Dania for you...
See the thing is, I think I'm a bit mental. But surely to think I'm mental means that I am not, in fact, mental? And that's the dilemma that pulses through my blood everyday. All I know is that I'm not normal and that I wish it didn't bother people. I wish I was special. I wish people loved me for who I am. Instead, I hide behind the false pretence that maybe things will get better and that people will change. When, in reality, maybe it is I who must change. I've never been completely right for this world. That is why thinking of leaving it is easy for me to think of but hard to do. No, I never would. Maybe I want to burden myself on people. The psychopath gets more attention. But being nice is supposedly the most important thing to do and be. So I'll change me to be what they want me to be. No speaking of the darkness that rots within me. No talk of the tainted bitterness that blossoms on the outside. I know they don't like me but I know they don't have to. I just wish they would. I wish I mattered. I wish there was a rope. Even if it burnt my hands and left the scars, I wouldn't be in the sewer with the alligators anymore.
So leave me like they all do. Leave me in the puddles I make. Leave me in the thoughts that haunt me. Leave me on the edge of the cliff that faces me everyday. Because everybody knows I'm strong. Everybody knows I can make it through. I'm the tough one who was saving the swearing for when it was needed to describe the next step of inexplicability. It's fucking shit, just so you know. Incredibly fucking bullshit crap.
What the fuck do I matter anyway? In the grande scheme of things, I am just a girl. JUST. I wasn't enough for you. I wasn't enough for them. So, how the hell do you expect me to be enough for myself? I'm tearing myself apart. That's how amazing I am. That's how brilliant I am. Why throw these empty words at me? Why not just punch me instead? It would hurt me less.
It will all pass. It will all end. Like life itself really. Why are we trying? Why are we walking through this blindly? Why even bother?
YOU ARE READING
The Irreplaceable Me
Teen FictionThe emotional development of an unstable girl named Dania who took the deadliest drug of all. Now, she finds herself with withdrawal symptoms and unable to find a replacement substance strong enough to suppress her loss.
