I know the game. (Journal Entry)

No one ever told me that I would amount to anything more than a spoiled brat. Most of my life my self esteem was ran into the ground by a father who thought I was never good enough. "You'd be so beautiful if you lost weight." Those words echo through my head everytime I look at myself. I am still fighting to find peace with who and what I am. But, how can I do that when I don't even know at this point? Just when you think you have me figured out, I change so drastically that you can't look me in the eyes without wondering who this person is. What you never realize is that if you look deep enough, and show effort you will find her.... but you won't like what you see. That I can promise you, because when you search that far into my mind, the blood will start to form on your hands. Then you discover you're the one who killed her. You loved me because I was the only one to ever pay attention to you. The only girl who ever cared enough to ask the questions you needed to answer. It was a selfish act, because I understood... and through you're realizations, and concepts I tried to find my own. When you recovered your self esteem, you re payed my therapy sessions by abolishing the only organ I had left... my heart. The people reading this might assume it's about one person, but how wrong they are. They don't understand that this is the trend of my life. The ever going cycle of love and loss. A wise friend once said to me "The sweeter the words the more harsh the venom." Everyone promises happy ever after, and none can compensate their own dialogue. There was a time when I could fall in love with a simple glance in my direction. I'm amazed how much I have grown from that, but now their is a more torturous defeat. I shall not swoon for your gaze, rather your words and expressions. Everyday it gets harder to resurrect myself to my erstwhile state of being. Morbidly I don't fear the day that I can't recoup. My only hope, my only prayer to a god I refuse to swallow... is that you will all be there. To stand by and watch me disintegrate. Without words, because you're too afraid to speak. Just as I did for you, so many times before.