Dear Nathan,
I’ve been so tempted to cut lately. There’s just this searing urge to dig a razor into my now clean skin. I’ve been doing so well, but I’ve felt so fucked up lately.
In fact, the other day, I planned ahead (in case anyone checks the drawer it was in) and cut open a teddy bear, stuffed by cutting kid inside its back, closed it with safety pins, and put its sweater back on. Fucked up, isn’t it?
Anyway, I want to die lately and I just can’t seem to truly be happy for myself; I’m just putting up a front.
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