How Not To Die.

I love her, so so badly. But she won't say it back. I know she won't. How can I expect anyone to love me when I'm depressed trash?
My dad is a piece of shit and he insults me every day.
But I don't even deserve him. I don't deserve the roof over my head or the food I eat.
And I can't expect anyone to love me.
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SHORT STORY : warning, this story will have no more than 3 Chapters, if that many. Most likely, this will have 1 chapter.

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1. How Not To Die.

     She has bulimia. She has bulimia and I didn't notice. Not only that, she has a series of other problems; bipolar, depression,and she's very suicidal.The girl I'm dating, the girl I thought I knew. And yet, all of it seems so insignificant. Because, in the grand scheme of it, she's here for me. And nobody else has been, at all.

     I was a victim of physical abuse, which basically means that my mom was batshit crazy. And yes, it's hard to deal with. I was lucky enough not to have been in a life threatening situation, which I am so thankful for. I had a new bruise probably once or twice a week, but physical abuse is nothing compared to the verbal abuse I am still facing to this day.

     My dad sat there, took the abuse for 10 years, and now had been dealing with the government for 3 years. And I'll be honest, it changed him. A lot. He was a kind and loving man, despite what he put up with. Now, he can't handle anything. He's paranoid, stressed, and anxious 24/7 and he takes it out on me. He pokes fun and basically insults the fact that I'm attracted to girls. He makes fun of my appearance. My self confidence and self image is not good by any means anyway, considering that my face is not conventionally beautiful and I'm about 50 lbs overweight. I could have a perfectly amazing day, and get into the car coming home from school, and he would ruin that mood. Shooting insults, he has ways to bring me down.

     That brings me to where we are today. My girlfriend (well, goyfriend..) is telling me she has bulimia. But for the sake of this story and how she was on this day, we are going to call her by her/she pronouns.

        "So, I have bulimia. My parents don't like anything about me. They don't like my gender; they want me to be a girl forever. And, the thing is, I just can't be perfect for them. But this, my weight, this is the one thing I can control. Anyone can look at my face, see the bags under my eyes, and call me ugly. But this way, they can look at my body and say 'You're beautiful.'

     It hurt me to see her say that. Really hurt me. I already think she's beautiful, and I don't want her to cut herself like she does. She doesn't see herself like I see her.

     "Alex, don't say that. I don't want you to feel pressure to talk about your appearance, your weight, or your bulimia to me. Just know though, that you don't need to look a certain way for your parents. They're from a generation that doesn't understand the things that you're going through. Even so, if they don't think you're completely perfect the way you are, they can go suck a dick. You're not gonna want to say this back, and you're certainly not obligated to by any means. But, I'm so fucking glad you put up with my complete shit. I love listening to you talk, and I think you're hilarious. You get my sense of humour and you don't judge me, although I don't know why you would because I honestly look like a fucking camel on a hot day." she chuckled and waited for me to go on.

     "I don't even know why I'm saying this because it just sounds lame, and you definitely don't feel the same way, but I'm just going to say it. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else. You're the only person I've ever loved, and I love you to my fullest capacity." I swallowed hard.

     "I'm sorry if I'm freaking you out.." I mumbled as my voice broke and my eyes welled up with tears.

    She looked into my eyes for a long time and brushed her cool hand across my warm cheek, bringing light to my eyes.

                                         "Sarah..." 

     'Here it comes' I thought, my mind filling up with hope. 'She's going to say it'.

     "I care about you a lot Sarah... I consider you my first relationship and you can't understand how much I appreciate you and thank god for you every day. You make me laugh and you're the reason I'm still alive today. You listen to me and talk and make me so happy even if I know you're not interested in what I'm saying. You put up with me, and I'm complete and utter trash." I looked at her and smiled, gulping and preparing myself for one of the greatest moments of my life.

     "But Sarah, I'm not ready to say those three words to you yet."

     And I was completely let down with the words I never wanted to hear.

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