"No!"
"It's how it should be."
"Don't...don't go! Stay!"
"I'm sorry, I can't."
"But...I promise I'll be good! I don't want you to go! Please, stay!"
"I have to go. I don't know when I'll come back."
"I can't take this! I want to kill myself!"
"Don't say such things! Let it go! You can't face it!"
"No! NO!"
***
"Get over it. She's no good."
"SHUT UP!"
"Listen to me! She has deserted us!"
"I hate this!"
"Get on with it! It's just you and I now."
"I want all three of us!"
"Not going to happen! Just face it, will you?"
"No! No! This can't be happening!"
***
"Congratulations!"
"Thank you."
"We're so proud of you."
"Thanks for everything. I love you!"
"We love you too."
"I want you both to be there, and no one else."
"We will."
***
"Now that you've grown I suppose you can understand why it happened."
"Yeah."
"It was for the best. But we trust each other when it comes to your upbringing."
"I know."
"You've learned a lot from it. You're tough."
"Indeed I have."
"You know how much we both love you, right?"
"I never doubt that."
"Even though things are not completely ideal."
"No, they are not."
"You can still live like others."
***
The truth is...no, I can't. I know. Call it exaggerating. Call it attention-seeking. Call it being pathetic. It's almost eight bloody years and I still can never fully comprehend why it happened. Why me. I haven't accepted it. It was the source of all things that have gone wrong. I just can't get over it. People can say anything. They can come to me and attempt--or pretend--to understand. In the end, most of them fail miserably. They don't understand. They have never been in my shoes. They have not seen things that I have seen. They have not shed the tears that I have let out for eight years every time I think about it.
Don't think too much of it.
Rubbish. It's not as easy as some people make it out to be. It's never easy. It's always difficult for anyone. Sure, it happens a lot, but it doesn't make it any easier. Especially for the ones who get hurt the worst like me. The scar is still there and it will always be there. God, it hurts so bad. To see people who are luckier than me when it comes to...this thingy. To see people who get much better but take everything for granted. To look back and remember those days filled with screams, tears, and anger.
It hurts like shit.
And I haven't found the cure--if there's any.
Those who do not understand will see this as an attempt to get attention from a pitiful adolescent, just another angsty stuff that a lot of young people make in order to 'fit in'. They will say, "What an exaggeration. It's been years. Surely it's not that bad." Ha. Not that I'd be surprised. It just happens. And I'm used to it.
Whatever.
It's getting late now, and...ah, I don't even know what I'm doing here. Maybe it's the chilly air that makes it such a perfect situation to think of these things. Maybe I'm just being sensitive. Maybe it's as bad as I've made it sound to be.
Maybe. One thing for sure is that I'm tired and bored of crying over this thing. I'm furious at myself for being such a pathetic idiot. I just can't help it, and God knows why.
It hurts.
00:30
"It's how it should be."
"Don't...don't go! Stay!"
"I'm sorry, I can't."
"But...I promise I'll be good! I don't want you to go! Please, stay!"
"I have to go. I don't know when I'll come back."
"I can't take this! I want to kill myself!"
"Don't say such things! Let it go! You can't face it!"
"No! NO!"
***
"Get over it. She's no good."
"SHUT UP!"
"Listen to me! She has deserted us!"
"I hate this!"
"Get on with it! It's just you and I now."
"I want all three of us!"
"Not going to happen! Just face it, will you?"
"No! No! This can't be happening!"
***
"Congratulations!"
"Thank you."
"We're so proud of you."
"Thanks for everything. I love you!"
"We love you too."
"I want you both to be there, and no one else."
"We will."
***
"Now that you've grown I suppose you can understand why it happened."
"Yeah."
"It was for the best. But we trust each other when it comes to your upbringing."
"I know."
"You've learned a lot from it. You're tough."
"Indeed I have."
"You know how much we both love you, right?"
"I never doubt that."
"Even though things are not completely ideal."
"No, they are not."
"You can still live like others."
***
The truth is...no, I can't. I know. Call it exaggerating. Call it attention-seeking. Call it being pathetic. It's almost eight bloody years and I still can never fully comprehend why it happened. Why me. I haven't accepted it. It was the source of all things that have gone wrong. I just can't get over it. People can say anything. They can come to me and attempt--or pretend--to understand. In the end, most of them fail miserably. They don't understand. They have never been in my shoes. They have not seen things that I have seen. They have not shed the tears that I have let out for eight years every time I think about it.
Don't think too much of it.
Rubbish. It's not as easy as some people make it out to be. It's never easy. It's always difficult for anyone. Sure, it happens a lot, but it doesn't make it any easier. Especially for the ones who get hurt the worst like me. The scar is still there and it will always be there. God, it hurts so bad. To see people who are luckier than me when it comes to...this thingy. To see people who get much better but take everything for granted. To look back and remember those days filled with screams, tears, and anger.
It hurts like shit.
And I haven't found the cure--if there's any.
Those who do not understand will see this as an attempt to get attention from a pitiful adolescent, just another angsty stuff that a lot of young people make in order to 'fit in'. They will say, "What an exaggeration. It's been years. Surely it's not that bad." Ha. Not that I'd be surprised. It just happens. And I'm used to it.
Whatever.
It's getting late now, and...ah, I don't even know what I'm doing here. Maybe it's the chilly air that makes it such a perfect situation to think of these things. Maybe I'm just being sensitive. Maybe it's as bad as I've made it sound to be.
Maybe. One thing for sure is that I'm tired and bored of crying over this thing. I'm furious at myself for being such a pathetic idiot. I just can't help it, and God knows why.
It hurts.
00:30
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