After he was finished with my ankle he started on his. I asked him how he did it so quickly and without showing any pain whatsoever. He rolled up his shirt sleeve and there it was, my name carved into his bicep. I couldn't believe it. So I asked when he did it and he said the night he met me. Now, being so young and stupid I thought, "wow he really loves me, why else would he be so dumb."
Needless to say that's how it started. I wanted to show Chris that I wasn't afraid of anything. That sounds stupid, I'm aware. Since the ankle incident I hadn't cut myself in about a month. Then all of a sudden one night Chris had yelled at me for almost an hour and "broke up" with me. I honestly don't know what I was thinking but I took a razor from the bathroom and broke it open. I took the tiny blade in my had and with tears in my eyes I made my first cut. The only thing I was smart about is where I decided to put it. It was on my thigh, it was small and healed the very same week. After that I couldn't stop. Chris and I got back together the next day and I told him what I did. You know what he said? He said something along the lines of, "good, I hope it hurt."
I didn't tell anyone what I was doing to myself. No one would understand, I knew they wouldn't. Well actually, I had no one to tell. I chased away all of my friends and I was an outcast. It was that easy, Chris made me believe that all I needed was him. For awhile I believed him. I figured that I didn't need my friends or my family if I had him. Yeah, really fucking dumb I know. You don't have to keep saying it to yourself in your head. I never wanted to admit it but now I know I can, Chris is the reason that I started cutting myself. If he would have never put his initials in my ankle I honestly wouldn't have started.
Pretty soon being with Chris meant that I had no freedom. I couldn't wear what I wanted. I couldn't wear my hair the way I wanted. I wasn't even aloud to put make-up on my face. I would wear jeans that were a size too big so I wouldn't have to hear him bitch about me wanting people to check me out. You know I did have my days though. Days when I just didn't care and did whatever I wanted. I would wear my hair down, wear a tank top and a pair of really nice jeans. Until the day Chris decided to surprise me and show up at my school. That walk home was horrible. He screamed at me the whole time.
Once we got back to my house he broke up with me and left. All I could think was that I wanted him to come back. How sad is that? He never ended up coming back it took him about a day to call me. That's only because I begged him to come back to me. Since I had no more friends and my family didn't know me anymore I didn't have anyone with out him.
Needless to say that's how it started. I wanted to show Chris that I wasn't afraid of anything. That sounds stupid, I'm aware. Since the ankle incident I hadn't cut myself in about a month. Then all of a sudden one night Chris had yelled at me for almost an hour and "broke up" with me. I honestly don't know what I was thinking but I took a razor from the bathroom and broke it open. I took the tiny blade in my had and with tears in my eyes I made my first cut. The only thing I was smart about is where I decided to put it. It was on my thigh, it was small and healed the very same week. After that I couldn't stop. Chris and I got back together the next day and I told him what I did. You know what he said? He said something along the lines of, "good, I hope it hurt."
I didn't tell anyone what I was doing to myself. No one would understand, I knew they wouldn't. Well actually, I had no one to tell. I chased away all of my friends and I was an outcast. It was that easy, Chris made me believe that all I needed was him. For awhile I believed him. I figured that I didn't need my friends or my family if I had him. Yeah, really fucking dumb I know. You don't have to keep saying it to yourself in your head. I never wanted to admit it but now I know I can, Chris is the reason that I started cutting myself. If he would have never put his initials in my ankle I honestly wouldn't have started.
Pretty soon being with Chris meant that I had no freedom. I couldn't wear what I wanted. I couldn't wear my hair the way I wanted. I wasn't even aloud to put make-up on my face. I would wear jeans that were a size too big so I wouldn't have to hear him bitch about me wanting people to check me out. You know I did have my days though. Days when I just didn't care and did whatever I wanted. I would wear my hair down, wear a tank top and a pair of really nice jeans. Until the day Chris decided to surprise me and show up at my school. That walk home was horrible. He screamed at me the whole time.
Once we got back to my house he broke up with me and left. All I could think was that I wanted him to come back. How sad is that? He never ended up coming back it took him about a day to call me. That's only because I begged him to come back to me. Since I had no more friends and my family didn't know me anymore I didn't have anyone with out him.
