Him. It all happened because of him. The guy that chose another girl over me. I loved him and he knew that. He knew how much I needed him. How much I wanted to kiss his lips. How much I wanted to hold his hands. How much I wanted to say “I love you” and not have to say it in a “friend way”. Because of him. Because I don’t have him. I have a blade pressed to my skin. I have tears running down my cheeks. I have my mind saying that I’ll never be good enough. I have bloodshot eyes and bloody scars. Because of him.