Dear Friend,
I laid in the snow on New years eve again. I was cold, freezing, and shivering, but I didn't care. The memories still haunted years ago I was doing the same thing. Only I was on LSD. Another decision I slightly regret. This time, I Wasn't at a party, or out at The Big Boy. I was laying peacefully in my bed, then I started crying. It wasn't the baby kind either. It was the kind that racked every bone in your body with each sob. It was the unexpected kind. It was me feeling, and seeing...again. That kind.
I had hoped for this to be over. I know that I should be Past all these memories, yet I still can't see why I still loved Aunt Helen. After all, I knew what had happened, and I knew it was bad, horrible, unspeakable, yet I still loved her. I don't remember leaving my bed, or the house for that matter. I was halfway through my junior year, and I still cried like this. I'm pathetic. No. I am me, and no matter how old I am, it's still okay to cry.
I went to the the park that Patrick took me to almost two years ago to meet other men. He went there, and drank constantly, because, kind of like me, he was in a bad place at the time. He had just lost his first love. I told you about Brad, and their fight in the "Nutrition Center". Well, needless to say, they haven't spoken since, and I don't blame either of them. If things could be much simpler, maybe they wouldn't have to fight, and maybe I could have helped more when things got rough. I know that I can't do much, but I could try. I don't know what I was doing at this park, but it reminded me of a sad Patrick and I didn't like it.
It made me wonder how Patrick was nowadays. He nor anyone else stopped out this year. Only my brother and sister stopped out. I was extremely lonely this year. and things became worse than expected. I have a clear visual of the memory. I was standing in the great room when I collapsed. I remember hitting the ground and standing right back up. I had anger inside. It was Christmas eve, and everyone had already gone to bed. I walked determined to the kitchen, and searched frantically. After searching through numerious drawers I had finally found one. A steak knife that was actually sharp.
I walked with purpose to the sink, I would much rather make a mess in the sink. Over and over, three words kept flashing in my mind, "All My Fault" Memories of Aunt Helen kept popping up, and after an hour of completely silent sobbing, I did something I had never done before, nor had I thought I would ever do. I Cut my arm open. Deep. I do not remember feeling any pain. All I remember is crying and slashing. The next morning I remembered waking up in the hospital. I guess I had lost so much blood that I collapsed. The only way my parents knew was because they heard me drop the knife in the sink. I feel terrible. I hate myself for doing this, and I know that it will not ever happen again.
But I needed 13 stitches on each arm. Now I have to live with my new arms. Because for ever scrawled on my left arm is, "ALL MY", and on the right it says, "FAULT". Things like this will never go away. and I know that. I just hope that you, my family, everyone, and most of all, myself, can Forgive me. I'm sorry that I didn't write in two years, but you never know what can happen when something messes with your head. Even though I have problems. I know I can get through them. I guess this is really what it feels like to be numb.
Love Always,
Charlie
