Don't cut. Don't cut. Don't cut. Don't cut. Don't Cut. You're going to see your parents in just under a month. That is not enough time to heal, and it will be summer, you can't cover it up.

Although, no one ever seems to notice.

Shush! What would it do to your parents?

At least I'm likely to live.

One day you won't, you'll cut too deep.

That's ok.

To you maybe, but you've been such a horrible burden to your parents already, the least you could do is put up with this soul-destroying agony so they don't feel guilty.

Are you the Angel or the Devil on my shoulder?

I'm whatever I need to be to make sure you don't have to see that look of disappointment in their eyes.

I miss Stanley.

He only hurt you.

That was the point. He is there for me, no one else ever is.

Harden up.

I can't. Don't you see that I can't? I'm so tired.

Go to your happy place.

I don't have one.

Make one.

I've tried. It's depressing, because it's not real. None of it is. I'm a fat, miserable, hideous failure. I will never help people. I will never make anyone happy. That's all I want, but it won't happen. I just make people mad.

You haven't tried hard enough.

This isn't a soap opera. This isn't a musical. Life isn't that easy. Happiness and acceptance of self doesn't automatically come with the dysfunctional but loving comraderie you have with your crazy family or nerd friends. People don't stick together. Selfish people don't learn to love. There is nothing beautiful in war. Killers do go free. The fat, miserable, hideous failure does not find a Prince Charming. She doesn't even get a toad. Wishes don't come true. Some crazy coincidence doesn't create the opportunity for the perfect career. There is no purpose or order to life. We are atoms and molecules that happened to form humans and now we are living because we can. It's just killing time. Sure, we can try to make something out of this nothing we have, but ultimately most of us will die with little more than we were born with. I have no talent to exploit, no looks to strut down a runway, no savantism to benefit from, no money to spend to make more, no high school diploma to become something important, no coordination to become an expert in Krav Maga and become a vigilante. I am nothing. I always will be, I am not going to delude myself into thinking otherwise.

...