she left.

I think she left. Amelia.
I think I done and pushed her away. For real.
Maybe the pictures were a mistake. I wasn't thinking straight.
I thought we don't have secrets, so I didn't hold myself back.

 I relapsed.

 It wasn't bad, though. Actually, I count it as a win. There wasn't any blood. No sharp objects in sight.
I just made creative use of a rubber band.
Red lines and angry welts fade faster than skin-broken cuts, right?

 I feel tons better.

 The overwhelming emotions all died out. 

 Maybe she's not coming back.
She won't.
She said it herself.
But I held my promise, didn't I? It wasn't even a close attempt.
I had no place to speak this other than her.
.....Was I wrong?

 After all, no one else would've cared.

 I wish I had pills for these kind of things.

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