anonymous

Confessions: #1

First confession: I used to carve myself. You’d have to be an idiot to not get what I mean. Except, it wasn’t that bad; I didn’t actually bleed. I’d only press hard enough so it made a mark, so it would penetrate the skin but at the same time, not bleed. Why? At first, it was because I didn’t know what else to do to help me cope with my emotions. I knew my dilemmas weren’t the end of the world, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed an outlet, so I turned to the silver. Only, I made sure I didn’t bleed. After awhile, he found out. Actually, I told him, as a joke, hoping he’d see past it and know I wasn’t joking. Surprisingly, he did. He’d check on my arm for any fresh cuts daily; it made me feel loved. We got into an argument. While we were making up, he told me hecut himself. Once. He told me it was tiny, it that bled a bit. I felt guilty, because when I cut myself, it didn’t bleed at all. He checked my arm, and there was no fresh cuts. He stopped checking after awhile, and I went back to carving, just one noticeable line, so he’d see, and go back to checking. I’d then stop. Eventually, he grew tired of me. I stopped carving, during the time when I was hurting the most. The point is, I carved myself so he would show me he cared by checking, rather than using it as an outlet for my emotions. I cut for his attention.

So now, whenever I see my fading scars, I don’t think of those hard times that caused me to carve myself. I think of him. I think about how he used to care for me and how I let him slip away.

- A is for anonymous