I don't say a word but I take in Dan's.

'I can't do this anymore' I sigh.

'Can't do what?' Dan asks in concern.

'This' I say, gesturing all around me.

'Elaborate'.

'I'm not sick. I'm not driving myself into the ground, Dan. Why are you saying that?'

'Because it's the truth' he takes my hand gently and kisses it.

It breaks my heart having to do this. 'I'm sorry Dan. I think we should take a break'.

Dan drops my hand in shock. '…What?'

'I'm sorry' a single tear rolls from my eye. 'I think it's for the best'.

'Tess. No. I can't leave you'.

'I'm sorry' I whisper, walking slowly backwards. I turn and run into my room, grabbing my phone before running out of the apartment. I run blindly down the street, unaware of where I'm heading. My light brown hair swings in front of my tear stained face as I hurtle down the street, not caring what I look like. I spot a bench and sit down on it, my head in my hands.

My stomach aches, my throat is dry, and my head hurts.

Fat. Ugly. Stupid. Bitch. Loser. Fat. Bitch. Ugly. Fat.

The rain begins to fall, lightly at first but gradually getting harder. I decide to go home. I pray that Dan's not there.

I stand outside the apartment door, listening for any noises that indicate life. Nothing. Sighing in relief, I unlock the door and switch on the lights. I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass on water when I see the note on the counter.

"Tessie,

Come back. Please come back. We can sort this out. Please.

Dan

xxx"

Crumpling the note up, I throw it in the bin and head to the bathroom.

Fat. Bitch. Loser. Stupid. Ugly. Fat. Bitch.

I bend down and open a cabinet, and feel behind the pipes for my razor blades. I pick one up and stare at it. The sharp edge that will cut so easily into my skin.

I run my fingertip along the blade lightly, teasing myself.

I haven't done this in so long.

I pull down the waistband of my jeans and place the blade against my hip. In one clean, painless sweep, the blade cuts into my skin, leaving a red line. Then bright red dots begin to appear, bubbling up before running down my hip.

I draw the blade across again and again, enjoying the pain. I feel good now. I feel happier.

But I'm trapped. I'm trapped in a vicious cycle in which one of the only things that makes me happy is one of the things that hurts me the most.

My hip is now red. But I don't care.

I lift the blade to my left wrist and drag it across lightly.

Bitch. Whore. Ugly. Fat. Stupid. Retard. Fat.

I watch the blood run down my wrist.

I hear a door slam. I jump. I hurriedly pull up my jeans, cover my weeping cuts and hide my blade again.

'Tess?' Dan calls out.

I freeze, unsure of whether to stay quiet or answer him. I hear footsteps coming in my direction. I look down at my red wrist. I'm only wearing a t-shirt. I grab a bunch of tissues and attempt to scrub the blood off.

The bathroom door opens and Dan stands there, his hair dripping wet.

I hurriedly shove the bloody tissues into my pocket and hide my hands behind me back. 'Hey Dan'.

'Tessie' he says, walking over to me and enveloping me in a huge hug. I breathe in his familiar scent and tighten my hold around him. He kisses the top of my head and I can't hold it in any longer. The tears roll down my face and get absorbed by Dan's pale grey hoodie. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling onto him, crying into his shoulder. He rests his chin on my shoulder and kisses my neck softly before carrying me into the living room. He sets me down on the sofa, covering me in a blanket before heading into the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later, carrying a mug of hot chocolate.

'Here' he says, pressing the warm cup into my hand. 'Drink this'.

I stare at the brown liquid, the whipped cream floating on top. Heaven. No. Hell. I wrap my hands around it, taking in its heat.

'Listen Tess' he says, turning to face me. 'Even if you don't want to be with me, then please, at least let me help you'.

'I don't need help' I mutter. 'I don't want you to be a burden of all my troubles'.

'Tess. We've been together for how many years?'

'Three' I reply.

'Exactly. Your troubles are my troubles, okay?'

I don't have the will to argue right now so I just nod. I don't want to drag him down with me, down a road of self-hatred and despair.

'Did you mean what you said earlier, about us?' he asks quietly, his eyes downcast.

'I…No….I….I don't know' I mumble.

'Well, you don't have to decide right now' he says gently. 'Come here'. He takes my left hand and begins to pull me towards him. But something stops him.

He's looking down.

I follow his gaze.

Shit.