3 months today. You changed my life, you changed my perspective on aspects of life, you made me a better person. I want, to be honest with you, though, I’m scared.
You know I have scars, but they aren’t
just upon my wrist. They are near and on my groyne, near my breasts, over my wrists and upper arms, and on my feet. An average couple would start to consider having sex by now, but I’m scared to do that, I don’t want to scare you off. Scars aren’t pretty things like the media makes them out to be, they are times that you lost a battle against yourself, tim
es that bring back not so good memories, times when you lost control of your own life, and it was the only way you could just sense a bit of control.
You did not know, but when we last spent the weekend together, I was scared. I made a fresh open wound. I did not want you to see, so when I got changed for the night, I got right in bed so you would not see it. In the morning, when you went for a shower, I cried for a bit, over the pain of how it hurt and how I was hurting you.
The girl you love and adore has so many things wrong with her, and you don’t know the half of it. The medication I take, they are my lifeline. They are what keep me alive, if I came off them, I would not be here anymore, you would have never had met me. I tell you stories about my Dr experiences, but you don’t know how hard it is to them. I tell you about the funny parts of them, I don’t tell you that I actually told them I wanted to kill myself, but was hanging on by my last string.
I love you, more than anything I have before, I would never want to lose you. You mean too much to me. People come and go, I would never want you to go. You girlfriend is hurting, though, more days than others, so if you went, I would not stop you, as I know I bring you down.
You make my shit smell better than ever.
Love you, Chelsea x