How Does It Feel To Be Loved?

It was just a rush I got every now and then. It slammed into me when I didn't know what was coming and all I can think is, "wow this sucks." The feelings I would get seemed almost unbearable. The thoughts in my head made me go into depression and cry myself to sleep every night. Sometimes it would last a couple of hours, or a day or two. But then I started getting longer, lasting for weeks at a time and then soon enough it just didn't go away.

At first I dealt with it, I cried, and I felt sorry for myself. But soon enough I needed an escape outlet. I needed something to help me get rid of the pain. Or at least numb it. I seeked people's attention, and when they gave it then I was better. There was a point where one person would always talk to me, and it kept me going. But then that person drifted away and I didn't know what to do with myself. What was wrong with me? Why do I always feel this way?

I couldn't take it any more. I constantly thought of death and killing myself. In my mind I imagined what would happen if I suddenly died. Who would cry? Who would go to my funeral? Who would even care? Was my life so meaningless to everyone that no one care if I were to drop dead? Maybe. Well that's what I thought anyway.

And even though I always talked to my best friend about the way I was feeling, I still felt this way. No matter how many times she told me how much she loved me, and cared for me; and that it wasn't a lie; I couldn't stop myself from wanting to die. I felt bad, I really did. Because deep down, past all of the voices in my head telling me that it wasn't true, I knew people cared. I knew they would be upset. That kept me going; that kept me from killing myself, just so others wouldn't feel my pain.

I didn't want anyone to have to go through the suffering of knowing how I was feeling and not being able to stop it. So I stopped talking about it to others. I stopped and I pretended everything was okay. I pretended that their light teasing didn't hurt, and I pretended that I was happy; all for those that I loved. But really, the truth was that I was dying inside. I wanted to die, I didn't want handle this pain, I couldn't handle the pain. I was weak, I had always been weak; everyone always said so.

That's when I tried it, I inflicted pain on myself, and it helped. For the first time in a really long time I felt better. I wasn't pretending for the most part, I was being real. I felt alive; there was a reason for living. As long as I had that knife close to me when everything was falling apart, I was okay.

Then I fell in love.

It came to me like salvation, my own personal angel sent from heaven. He was always there, but now he was just there more. He visited me everyday, he talked to me, he bought me lunch; he was nice. He didn't tease me and he made me feel good about myself. One day he asked me out, my heart fell to the ground and shot back up, I didn't need to cut myself anymore. I had another outlet; love. The only thing I ever needed.

Things were going great, I was falling, falling hard. I couldn't stop myself; in didn't want to stop myself. He was falling too and I saw it. With every love letter, with every hug, and god; with every kiss, he was falling. I was falling, we were falling together. But then, the voices came back again. I didn't know what to do other than cry and pretend things were okay. It started again, everything was going so well and then it just stopped. I missed the nice feeling, I craved it, I seeked it, but I just couldn't get it. I started cutting again, deep down hoping one day he would see the marks and make me swear not to do it again.

Because then I would feel loved. It would be proof that someone cares enough to try and make me stop. But at the same time I didn't want him to see. I didn't want him to know how weak I was, it would just prove everyone else right. The fragile, oh-so sensitive girl who everyone was careful around, and pretended around. Were they telling the truth when they said they weren't pretending? Or was that a lie? The voices said that it was a lie. Everything was a lie. Life was a lie.

How can someone seek happiness when they don't know how? They have the people who care, and they know that it's true; most of the time. But then the voices. They wouldn't go away. They didn't stop. They made my life miserable. I wanted happiness, I really did. Who wouldn't?

I wanted the life of a princess where everything was great in the world. The flowers always smelled their best, and prince charming was always waiting to take your hand and spin you around in a dance.

But, that was too much to want. Life doesn't work that way, it's not full of happiness and rainbows and butterflies. It full of sorrow and pain. Something that cannot be fixed no matter what you try.


My arm reached over Kiba's plate to get to the napkins. Yes, I could've easily asked him to pass them, but my mouth was too full at the moment. By the time my hand found the napkins I swallowed and felt a warm hand caressing my arms. It sent shivers down my spine. "Kibs, what are you doing?" I looked at my boyfriend of seven months.

His eyes stared at my arm and I followed his gaze, his fingers were tracing my cut marks. That's why it made me shiver, I felt it; I felt the pressure on my torn skin. "Sakura…what is this?" he asked softly.

I jerked my arm, trying to get it out of his grip. He had finally noticed, but at the moment I wished he hadn't. Even though I wanted his attention, this was making me feel bad. I felt bad for not telling him before and the torn expression on his face broke my heart.

"Battle scars." I mumbled lowly. Hoping he would believe my feeble attempt at trying to cover up my depression.

"Bull shit. There's too many, and they aren't that deep, and they are so neatly placed next to each other." He growled at my lie. Why hadn't I healed my scars, oh that's right I wanted to be reminded of the pain; I wanted him to see them.

"I…I…" I couldn't find any words to say and I just looked down at the table before us. Tears formed in my eyes and soon enough droplets fell on the table.

I heard the seat next to me make noise as Kiba rose; he was leaving. No matter how many reaction I had thought up in my messed up mind, him leaving was never one of them. My heart broke some more. He still had hold on my arm and I felt a tug. He pulled me to my feet.

And like it was slow motion I felt him pull me into a tight embrace. One with him clinging onto me so strongly my tears flowed heavier. His love and forgiveness amazed me. He was also crying. "I love you. Please don't…please don't do that to yourself. I'll do anything for you. I will always be by your side, move in with me. I will never leave you. I love you." I couldn't stop crying and a small smile formed on my face.

Was this what it felt like to be in love? Was this what it felt like to be loved and cared for? I couldn't stop crying, I couldn't stop holding onto him. I never wanted to let go. He made me happy, he gave me salvation. He was saving me all over again. And for that I owe him my life.

I owe him happiness.

I owe him a home full of care.

I owe him all of my heart…

I owe him love.


Wow, I'm sorry everyone. I don't know where this came from. I guess a little from my feelings I have right now. But of course they are intensified. No need to worry about me XD. Well anyways this was made as a gift to say "I'm sorry."

I haven't updated any of my stories, I haven't done anything for fanfiction. But I still love you guys very much. Just haven't had the spirit to get up and write. I hoped you enjoyed this.

~Naru-Vampire