Dying For Perfection.
Please note, this story is entirely fictitious all characters, procedures and events are thoroughly fiction. Sensitive material also lies ahead. If you're made easily uncomfortable it's advisable you don't read ahead, but it's your choice if you do. Please also be aware this story is written in English.
I couldn't help but feel jealous at the other people, who looked gorgeous, even flawless. Boys never wanted me as their girlfriend. They'd never pick me up, spin me around, or kiss me. It was worse when you had to go to school dances: everyone on the wood paneled floor, slow dancing. Whereas I'd just stand and drink. My eating habits changed, just so I wouldn't feel fat. I just wanted to be perfect. Just like everyone else. I had decided. I shouldn't eat. And I did just that, day after day. Some days merely picking at food, never finishing the meal: only when I was obliged to of course. In the end, it always made me feel sick,
Story of my life.You said you'd be there.
You said you'd stay,
You wouldn't leave like the others.
You promised me that.
You left me, just like everyone else.
You broke me like everyone else and expected me to be okay.
How about you just rip out my lungs and leave me there? You've already left me breathless so just take them.
See that knife, here. I'll rip open my shirt so you can stab me right in.
Another stab, another, another and another.
You've already given me stabbing heart pains so it wouldn't make any difference.
Go ahead, leave me; it's the story of my life.
Dear... Dear my love of my life,
I love you. I love you so much that whenever I see you, my heart pounds and shakes my chest with anxiousness. It echoes and chimes through my skin, and into my ears.
It kills me to see you with anyone else, it kills me so much that I cannot control myself. I feel lost and empty, I lose the words to say to you and I cannot calm down. I shake wondering why that person is better than me, why am I not the person you want to hold in your arms. Is it me? Is it you? Is it that I'm not good enough for you, not good looking enough, not rich enough, not important enough? What is it that person has over me?
I know I'm not strong and I couldn't protect you from harm, I know my arms are just sticks so would hardly keep you warm, I know that I may not be a good enough kisser, but I want my heart to go to you. Because my heart is the only thing that's goof about me. I love you so much that it would be a honour and a privilege to have it stolen by you.