Dear Diary

I tried to do it. I had a knife. And I really was alone. But I didn’t do it. It happens every time. I should just do it. I should stop being a coward and just do it.

Edit: So. I just cut myself. I didn’t think I’d do it again. I’d given up, you know. Last cut was on the arm. When I was in school. That’s like… about 4 years ago? I know it’s wrong. I know that much. But fuck it.
I cut my stomach this time. I think that place is better than my arms. In this warm place, we almost always have to wear short sleeved clothes. But I don’t wear crop tops. So it’s ok, I guess. No one would see. I don’t know why I’m confessing here. My previous entry where I begged for help like an idiot is something I should’ve deleted. It was silly. But I don’t know what I’m trying to say right now. Or what I want by saying all this here.
I really didn’t want to do it.

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