I'm a girl. Just your odinary one. Ache, girl problems, and the on and off relationships. I was living the happy life, until life began to get stressful. Felt like no one in this world had cared. So you know what? Yeah, that's right I turned to the Emo-ish things. Emo-ish things? No, No, No. Labeling people. NO. People think of emos as cutters, haters, dyers. No, I'm not a hater of life, and I'm certainly not going to kill myself. Cutting? I did it once. My life had gotton so out of control, with the murder of my father, and school, and of course boyfriends. I couldn't take it. I took a razor and just basically cut my problems away. I thought it would only happen once. Boy was I wrong. It's called an addiction. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY knows about this. Except for the people at group. My mom found many cuts all over my leg, and sat me down with an old lecture and how bad it is. Blah, blah, blah. Well basically, I'm hiding it from my boyfriend. We've been friends since 5th grade. We are sophmore's now.
Yet, he still doesn't know about my group, cutting, problems. He's my Kevy-Boo and i would hate to loose him in my life...