I miss being happy. I miss not being able to sleep cause I was excited for the next day, not because I simply can't sleep. I miss eating freely, not counting every calorie. I miss waking up and getting out of bed excited for my day instead of waking up and crying because I didn't die. I miss laughing. I miss feeling emotions and not having to fake every emotion. I miss being loved. I hate being the disappointment. I hate crying every day. I hate feeling empty. When I was younger I planned on being so happy and loved. But here I am, almost 20 and on my last leg. I count them, 1 2 3 4 skip a few and up to 12. My head spins as I take more, greedy me. I miss being care-free. I miss having friends. I miss being wanted. I tried to get better but every time, every single time, everything goes wrong. I got help but then it went wrong. It always goes wrong. Maybe it is a sign that I should have taken myself out long ago. I thought I deserved to get better. After everything, I thought I could have a purpose. But I am just a waste of space, of energy. I thought I could make a difference, inspire others. But honestly I don't want to even make it another day. I never thought I would even make it this far, yet here I am. I am so lost and alone. I want to be home. But where is home when I never had one? 21 22 maybe 23 or 24, I feel so tired but I won't sleep cause then I stare for hours. When I do sleep they are there, taunting me. I miss them, I hate him, I love her. Is this my goodbye or am I just looking for attention like the little attention whore I am? -Thoughts from your suicidal lover
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