And So I Cut Again....

Alisha

As a kid, I always wondered why people cut? What was the intrigue in it? It never made sense to me. Was it to get attention or to prove something to someone? I just couldn't understand that. Why would you want to harm yourself just because of issues that can be resolved? Why scar yourself over someone who doesn't even know it, who doesn't even care? But then one day, I grew up. I fell in love and got hurt. I then realized the appeal to cut.

I have loved twice. My first love lasted for roughly 4 years or so. Getting over it felt impossible but it's true, time eventually heals everything. People say nothing can replace your first love. I disagree with them. You can fall in love again. But loving again is as good as having a death wish. When you fall in love for the second time, you love harder, stronger and with more passion because you already have lost one love in your life and you would never want to go through the same feeling again. You tend to become more vulnerable to pain. But then, why did I fall in love again when everything was so uncertain, when I knew that there might not be a happily ever after. Maybe I wasn't smart enough.

I guess I just decided to live in the moment. Because I didn't want to lose precious time over thinking about the future when I could be with him right now. I just wanted to be with him. He erased all the bad memories of the past. He showed me a brighter way. He was one in a million. His eyes were so hypnotic that it was impossible for me to look away. His smile was so innocent that it just made me want to smile along with him. I could just look at him for the rest of my life and not want any else ever again. His touch was so sensual that it made chills go down my spine. When ever his lips were against mine, he possessed my soul. The world would just fade away every time i was next to him.

This love made me feel complete again. But every love story has its flaws. Mines was less complicated but much more painful. He was also someone who was in love again for the second time. But unlike me, he was still struggling with his past love. The days she crossed his mind he would become a stranger to me. I didn't mind that. Everybody has their own way of processing feelings. His was to abandon everything and everyone. But the worst was he had trust issues. He always felt insecure suspicious but I didn't mind that either. Nothing mattered to me as long as I had him. The only thing that hurt me the most was that he never believed me that I truly loved him and the worst was the I didn't know how to prove it to him. He told me he loved me but he just didn't know if i loved him as well no matter what I did.

I didn't know how to deal with it. Every time I told him how much I loved him and feared losing him, he laughed and considered it as me being melodramatic. It hurt every time. I stopped telling him how I felt because instead of consoling me he would just say thing that hurt me. He would specifically do things that he knew very well would hurt me. It never stopped him. I could never stop him even if I tried. So I kept it to myself. Then one night, the fear just became intense as I realized that time is running out fast. That maybe one day he would move on from me when he finds someone better. Maybe I'm just his rebound. The fear took over and just wouldn't go away. I couldn't tell him as I knew he wouldn't take it seriously and it would just make things worse. I just didn't know how to make the pain stop. I just wanted him to hold me but I knew I couldn't have that. He would trash me again and it would be worse.

So I took the blade and looked at my arms. They were filled with old scars and no place to cut. I tried to stop myself. I didn't ever remember how it felt to cut. I cut myself before but the need to cut just went away. But then I slid the blade across my thigh, a new fresh place to cut, it was ecstatic. My mind went empty as the blood drew from my thigh. It felt as every emotion that hurt was bleeding out. It made me feel drugged. I then realized everything. I was alone. I realized why I cut. It made me feel in control. I made me feel that no one could hurt me as bad as I could hurt myself. It was as assurance to me that after everything I'm going through, I'm strong enough to survive. I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to release the frustration. So I cut and cut, till I could feel no more pain. My hot blood streamed down my thigh. Everything felt lighter. Each new cut was deeper and in the heat of the moment. I couldn't stop till there were over 40 cuts. The tears kept flowing, so did the blood and it felt like I could break at any point.

And I came to remember the appeal to cut. It's just to get hold of yourself because nobody knows what your going through. Nobody realizes how shattered you are on the inside. It isn't always to get attention. Some times, it is just a way to express ourselves we no one is there to listen. It's to know that no one can hurt you as bad as you can hurt yourself. It's a way of realizing that nobody cares and you just don't matter to any one. It's to let go of things we have trouble dealing with. It just often prevents us from killing ourselves. I guess it's better to be scarred than being dead. With every scar we create, it's another story untold, another feeling kept hidden, another fear that you just couldn't over come...