Her mind was racing. She trusted someone; she let them in, and by god, she fucking regretted it by far. What the fuck was wrong with her? Why had she done it to her again? Did she not learn anything the first time around? At least she now knew exactly where she stood.

She was alone; she never had anyone to begin with. She was just a pathetic piece of shit. She wanted so badly to just fucking scream everything out, just finally pour her soul out. She was so fucking pathetic. She had already poured her heart out, her secrets, and now she was fucking doomed. By god, all she wanted to do was take everything back and go back to being miserable. Life was so much better not telling anyone anything. Now someone knew her, and she was fucking doomed.

She had an idea why she was so paranoid; why she felt so pathetic. She had told herself to some guy that lived very, very far from her, everything. She was so stupid. She knew what would happen. Every time she told someone she immediately started to spazz. She started to become attached; she immediately did everything for them, just because they listened. And the moment they were not together, she felt bad, she felt stupid, useless, worthless. Why did she devote herself to someone who really didn't give a flying fuck?

Probably because if he had chosen to leave (which she was sure he would eventually), it wouldn't affect her that much. Not as much as being able to see them and not being able to talk to them. At least it was just the internet. Why had she trusted someone over the net? Was she really that foolish? Was she really that uneasily able to make friends and trust them in real life? Never mind that she was planning to move to Europe once she was old enough. She was still so, so stupid to think that maybe once, she had found someone that would value her.

Why did she want to be valued anyway? She was incredibly selfish. All she wanted was just one fucking person; just one person she could have all to herself. She didn't want to share that person. She just wanted to do everything, from a to z with them. She knew that was impossible. She knew everyone had a fucking life and she herself had none. She was pathetic, she had no body, she never did and she never would.

That still didn't help her one bit. Every time she felt like shit she immediately thought of telling him. Then she quickly beat herself up. She knew about him, she knew his whole life. And she knew he purposely was everyone's doormat just to prove that there was at least one decent person out there. He already had so much shit to deal with; especially with his bottling emotions in, and his ex girlfriend, and his life. God, he had so much to deal with. What the fuck did she have to deal with? Absolutely nothing. And here she was whining. She was so fucking stupid.

And yet, she knew he cared. She knew he wouldn't leave. So why was it that she constantly doubted him and was so fucking terrified of trusting him? It's not like she had a choice any longer. He knew everything of her. Even thinking of how much he knew of her made her scared shitless. Her blood would course through her veins quickly and give her a 'light' feeling. She would feel helpless, and fucking stupid. She would feel worthless, and would be torn between regretting everything and being terrified that she was taking a chance on friendship.

She couldn't even comprehend the choices she had made. How could she have been so bold as to actually 'trust' someone with her life stories? Her stupid life experiences on stupid mistakes on self-harm, shoplifting, alcohol, and her family. God, her family. She had said to herself she was done with people, but fuck, look where that got her.

How could've she been so stupid? She had even sent him something she had written, something from right from her core. It had included everything...and he didn't even say anything about it. She had felt so stupid about it. Why had she sent him that? He didn't even MENTION it; not even a 'I read what you sent me.' Absolutely NOTHING. It had meant NOTHING to him; and perhaps that's what hurt the most.

What did she expect from him reading it anyway? Sympathy? Hadn't she learned that people don't sympathize? That they only hold pity, while in their minds all they say is a giant 'fucking wanker'? She was so silly. She wanted to take EVERYTHING back; but yet...she didn't. She had such mixed feelings it was driving her nuts. On one MAJOR hand, she wanted to just take back time, go back to before she even met him. Or perhaps, before she were even born so she wouldn't have to deal with anything. She didn't want to live, but she didn't want to die. Suicide was so selfish it made her furious to even think of it.

Yet, on the other hand, she was slightly...happy? Maybe not happy. Maybe slightly relieved. Was it because she had finally gotten out everything to someone? Thinking of it like that made her want to combust. She shouldn't have told him anything. He had so much to deal with. He definitely didn't need some stupid chick whining at him. She had told herself that she would be HIS doormat; he needed it. He never told anyone about himself, save for his one friend. Even then, he didn't say much. He needed a doormat, and she had decided she would be it. She could at least make herself useful for something. She had also vowed she would stop telling him her problems. The last thing he needed was another whiner. The last thing he needed was her on his plate. She decided to be his chair.

But every time she felt like shit, she would end up telling him even the slightest of it. And she knew it was so stupid of her to do so. So she decided she would have to change that. All questions he posed at her would turn into a 'oh, it was good,' or something of the sort. She would somehow have to focus everything on him. He needed it, whether he said it or not. Whether he knew it or not.

She needed no body. She was no one, going nowhere in life, headed for nowhere. She just wanted to run away. And hell, she would, once she got the chance, she would book it out of where she currently was.

Still, she felt shaky. She needed to stop relying on others. She knew it was just a matter of time before they fucked her over or left her. She knew that was exactly how her 'friend' thought of people too; so she decided she would prove him wrong. At least there would be one deathly loyal person in the world.

Maybe what really scared her was that she thought she was falling for him. She quickly eradicated that thought though; she knew she only considered that because he seemed to be the only decent male.

She didn't know what to think anymore. She just wanted to fucking scream and blow up the world. She hated everything. She still couldn't concentrate. She still had nothing. She was just as she was those few months ago. The only difference was that she no longer fucked up in school (for the most part.) She still struggled with one subject; but at least she was doing decently. But not according to her parents. She was still a major fuck up, a major failure, and had no direction in life.

She constantly struggled to keep back her tears. She constantly struggled to keep her temper in check. She knew how much of a fucking worthless piece of shit she was. She hated herself; she hated who she had become; she hated how she looked; she hated how she thought; she just fucking hated herself. Yet at the same time, she hated everyone else. Even if she disguised it and just pretended to like people.

And somehow, she felt incomplete if she didn't get to just say hi, for just one day.

She was just pathetic. She was terrified. She had nothing, she had no one, and she had no clue of what to do. She was so fucking angry at the same time. Especially at men. Probably because her father wasn't exactly the best role model; but hey, she was still there. She was still going to live, no matter how fucking angry she always was, no matter how 'depressed' she might have been feeling.

She really fucking hated men. She could never ever fucking be with one. She didn't know how to trust. She didn't even know what marriage was! She had her own utopian idea of what it was; but hey, utopia? Like that would ever exist.

She wanted to beat herself up. She liked him; and he said he liked her too. Apparently he had told her all of his personal story, as she had him. But twice she had told him some really personal stuff, and didn't receive any feedback.

She decided to bring it up to him; and in the end, she made him feel bad, and she was pretty sure he didn't really know what she meant. He thought he was neglecting her, and that made him spazz out because it had something to do with his personal story.

She had done it again. What the fuck was wrong with her? Hadn't she learned from the other times she had been run over by those she cared about? Why the fuck did she think it was different this time? Because he lived far away and if he left, at least she wouldn't have to go through the pain of seeing him and not having him?

How stupid could she be? It was clear as day that even if he did leave (which he promised her he wouldn't) it would hurt far worse than anything else. She never trusted anyone right from the start; thanks to her dad telling her everyone will only hurt her, trusting people was of no good.

The mere thought killed her heart. When they didn't talk, when he was too busy to talk to her, when she needed comfort but he was unavailable to give it to her, it all killed her. She realized she was in far too deep to even pull out. She needed him more than anything else.

She hated herself more than ever. Not a day would pass by without her berating and putting herself down. She had these ups and downs and secretly it was killing her. Anytime she would berate herself in front of him he would immediately argue back and tell her that she was perfect and he only wanted her.

But she knew she would never be good enough for him. Never. She was too ugly, too fat, she wasn't pretty enough, she didn't have any physical features that he likes. She would never be good enough for him. Whenever she looked at pictures of girls, she immediately picked herself apart comparing herself to them, knowing they were what he wanted, and that she wasn't good enough. He just wouldn't admit it.

Maybe she idolized him too much. But in her mind, there was only him, and that was it. She couldn't care less about anyone else. For her, there was only him, and there would only be him, forever.

She knew whenever she spazzed about her body, or put herself down in any matter he would object completely. She also knew he blamed himself for everything. She figured she'd have to play her cards right. No more spazzing, no more freaking out, nothing. She'd have to bottle it in so well that not even a scratch would show up.

Problem was she secretly wanted him to find out. She had a hard time controlling her emotions around him. So she figured, enough was enough. She had to control herself; and by god, she'd do it. She had to, for his sake and her own.

The thought of it killed her though. He had told her he wanted to know everything about her. But she didn't want him to worry about her. She didn't want him to see her at her worst, to see her cry, her weaknesses, and her lack of strength. She didn't him to worry about her, or take care of her. She was a burden; a burden for her parents, her sister, her whole family. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden for him; just because he made a promise to never leave her. She had to do it; for him.

But it still hurt to know that's what she was going to do. He was her only way out; her only way to vent; the only way she let herself blow off steam-well, a bit of it anyway. Knowing she was going to kill that way off...it killed her. But she knew it wasn't fair for him. She couldn't let him deal with her bullshit. It just wasn't fair. She would take his bullshit, because hell, he needed it. He had nothing to help him; and the least she could do for him was to take care of him. She was in debt to him; because he was the only person that's ever stayed with her for so long.

Though she had promised him she would never leave him. She knew she couldn't leave him. She had made a promise about loyalty, and for fuck's sake, she was going to keep it. He needed someone, and she would be that 'someone'. Whether it helped her or not. She was in debt to him, and would always be.

And with a startling gasp, she had realized she was far, far too attached to him to ever leave. She had fucked herself into sticking by him until he would throw her way like the rest had.

The only problem she had was that she wasn't sure she could pick herself from such a fall if it were to happen.