Hypochondriac

You think you're in so much pain.

Depress me with your melancholy and I'll act like I care. I'll listen to your moans and your 'pain' just so you know I'm there. That's such a sad story and you say it so well in-between sobs as you pull at your hair. You look so torn, is it because of him? He's only a boy, and you're only a girl. But you're in so much 'pain' aren't you? Ah, I see, you’re just a poor creature with nothing to live for. Please, get a grip.

Have I upset you? Well then, that's too bad. Maybe I'll show you real pain and see what you think of your petty worries then. Because I know the truth and you don't want to find it; you're blinded by your lies. I know what pain is, and you better pray to God you never will. Do you know what it's like to have your innocence torn; to be manipulated, deceived, tainted, and betrayed by those you trust? Do you know what it's like to be the one on the side, the girl who's the easy way out, the one to break? You don't know how many years I've suffered and battled with my mind. I'm torn, and you're concerned with an insignificant matter. I'm in pain, and you're feigning it. Please, I've been broken more times than you and yet I can still hold myself together. I move forward, and continue, not letting myself be crushed. I let my pieces blow with the wind, but you hold yours to your chest. So just sit and sob for your lost 'love', and let me suffer behind the curtain you've created. Don't let anyone in because they’ll only cause you to grieve. These lies you've invented are quite entertaining.

And oh, you think you're the only one? Your pain can't even compare to those who've been shattered. Your heart's broken? I don't think so. Go on, continue to carve your skin with lies and hate, but remember it's your fault, and no one else's blame. You say I don't understand but who are you to judge? Can you say I've never had my heart broken by the ones I love? You have a lot to learn, child, because you think the world has ended. Trust me, it has only begun. Where will you be in the adult world? I'm sure those around you can predict.

So you're dead now and have a new wardrobe. It suits what you've become, but does it suit what you've always been? I wouldn't know because you shut me out. But now you hang with 'that crowd'. They accept you, which is what you've always wanted. Good for you. I hope you'll add to your collection of lies. I hope you learn what it's like to be in pain and alone and feel what I've felt for so many years. There's this fear that stays with me, and it never gives up. You don't know what fear is, and yet you pretend to have your own. Still, you don't know how it feels to have a constant phobia of the ones you love. I can't trust anyone anymore. I've been broken too many times.

But I still try. So, just 'break' and come back to me. I want to see you on your hands and knees, crawling towards salvation that you think you see. I already have mine, and it's sewing me back together. I’m healing, and you’re still trying to ‘break’. You’ll never get enough of your high, this thing you call ‘agony’. Whine to them, I bet they care. You’re all the same, with your ‘darkness’ and ‘anguish’. You all think you know what it’s like, and take pride in it. It’s making me sick, watching you display your false wounds. Close your heart, I can’t see any bruises.

It’s appalling to me. You’ll never see me cry again, and yet you brand yourself with tears. You’re marked by your lies that you don’t try to erase. You hate the world for what it’s done to you, when it only gave you hope. It’s your fault, it’s your blame, and it’s all yours. The world has nothing to do with it. God, you’re pitiful, pull yourself together. You’re just digging a hole to bury yourself in. Have fun trying to find a way out.

Author's Note

This is more of a rant, but I put it in the form of a story.
I am truly sick of those people who think just because a boy/girl dumped them, it's the end of the world. Or because their friend isn't talking them. I've been through so much shit in my life, they couldn't imagine what I go through every year. Yet, they complain to me about how much 'pain' they are in. They're not in pain, they only want attention. I ESPECIALLY hate those who cut themselves to show their 'pain'. Some of my close friends tear themselves apart with razors. I'm just through with their crap.

Reviews

[Elana Juli Royson]

This reminds me of someone, won't mention any names *coughShaunacough*, but it's true. I think sometimes I am one of those people who complain and sometimes I think I do it to get sympathy, but I don't continue with the same story for ages, I let go. I'm trying to stop because I know how annoying it gets to hear people complain about the same stuff over and over *coughShaunacough*. Good write.