Punching Ryan was probably one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. I was madly in love with him, and he took advantage of me. He played around with me, and broke my heart. I didn't want to hurt him, but he really upset me so much! He made me so angry. I just had to.
I walked home, not sure if I should regret it or not. Sure, he deserved it. But I still love him. Even after what he did to me. You can't just fall out of love. I cried my eyes out for hours. And when I finally had the strength to get up to have something to eat, I really didn't feel liked eating. The thought of food made me sick. The thought of anything made me sick. And I miss Ry so much. I miss what we had.
Wait. He didn't mean any of it! He didn't mean it when he said he loved me as I made love to him gently, not wanting to put him through any pain.
I wish I had though. Now I wish I didn't care to stretch him. Or to lube up.
No, those thoughts are terrible. I shouldn't think like that? I dont't know. I'm too broken at the moment. My heart feels as if it's been split in too. I really hate it.
After nibbling on a few crackers (vegan ones of course), I made my way to the bathroom, and turned the hot water on. After stripping down, I let the hot water run down my chest. It felt beautful, until I remember the time when Ryan and I sucked each other off in the shower. It was at that point when I broke down. Tears spilled down my face, mixing with the water. I cried. And cried. And cried again. Sobbing, I searched through the cupboard. After blindly throwing stuff about, I found what I was looking for. A razor. I held the sharp edge against my flesh, and pressed it against the skin, piercing it. I sobbed, thinking again of my broken heart. Of Ryan. Of the friendship and love that I'd lost. And of the problems that this would cause for our band.