I sit beside my desk, twirling a pen in between my fingers, trying to concentrate. I stare at the blank page, in front of me, and sigh, putting pen on it. I let my mind, flow, and free my hands, into their own slow dance, on the page.
I'll call you Chris. I like the name Chris, I don't know why. Maybe because I used to like a guy named Chris, he was actually, nice and we were friends until 6th class, he had to move, away with his family. And we stopped all of the communication, after.
Anyway, I don't have to tell you about my crush. I've to tell you about my feelings. But how, can you talk about emptiness, and darkness? That's exactly what I feel. I don't know if it is the emptiness, and darkness, I'm feeling, but I don't know how else to describe them. They seem like the perfect words.
I don't know is its depression, coming out of its shelf inside of me, or I'm just letting the real side of me slip out. I don't know. I've been trying to hide my feelings since my dad left, which was probably, my breaking point. My dad was my idol, I always looked up, at him, as an example, I also thought I had the perfect family, but you can just imagine how devastated I was, when I found out about their divorce.
Those news seriously, broke me, into two, different parts. Into two different people even. One of them is still the same old Amelia, but the second one is a completely different person. I negative one, the one who doesn't see, anything good, in anything. I'm actually glad I'm writing all of this, maybe, you're the same kind of person I am, and you will understand me, maybe you're completely different...But you can still understand, if you want to of course.
I don't know if I should write, about what I had done to my body, all of the damage, all of the pain, and struggle. I guess, no. Just in case, you wouldn't want to read the letters from a girl, who has scars on her body.
I read over the letter, seeing if I made any mistakes, and fold it into two, after, making sure its correct. I put it into a brand new, white, and clean envelope, not closing it, just in case Dr.Ellis, will want to read it, too. I write my home address, on one side of the envelope, leaving the second one, blank, for the address, she'll give me tomorrow. I smile, at the envelope, in my hands, and hide it under the pile, of notebooks on my table, just in case, my mom will want to check my bedroom, no need for her to see this.