It's never that simple.

It kind've annoys me how sometimes we say something, and of course are only meaning half of it. Just inforcing drama on the other half, and certain people take it seriously. Maybe I do get insecure about little things, but it's not for a long amount of time. Just enough for a whinge, and then I'm over it. But then having somebody sign online and ask how you're really feeling, when you have no idea how to verbalize it, it kills you. You love them that much that when they ask you how you are, you wish you could just tell them. Just like that. But it's never that simple.


What she's feeling isn't that simple to say. Even to write to somebody through online communication. She can't express those thoughts. Even though they may not be suicide.
She's definitely not suicidal. And that is reinforced because over half the human race is suicidal. But she, she has no intention of killing herself. But she hates crying out to those that love her. Simply because she doesn't really care. About herself. She doesn't care where she ends up or what happens to her. Self-harm is never enough. But that's her way of crying out. That's her way of searching for help. But it's never heard. Or understood. You may know how it feels to be in a dark place, and cut. But you don't know what else runs through her head.