She was too proud to ask for help. Especially when she knew she needed all the help she could get.
It had been more than two years. More than two years since she’d started to feel nothing. What she was before, was nothing more than a dream. That part of her felt unreal.
She wanted someone, anyone to notice that she felt nothing anymore. That she wanted help even when everyone thought she had nothing to worry about. Because you are a topper. What can a topper have to worry about?
Maybe she was faking it. It made her a complete fucking bitch, but who knew? Even if she was faking it, she needed help. Because of that.
She recognized other broken souls around her, in her class itself. It made her hypocritical to not help them but ask for help instead. But she didn’t care anymore.
Her sister was broken herself to try to pick up the remains of her heart, her mind and try to piece them together. Not helping her sister made her feel like shit too.
But she knew she was shit, so who cares?
She drowned in self-hate everyday. She wanted to die everyday. But there were hopes of a good future. There was that. And she believed in soulmates, she believed in someone who would help her, be it a guy or a girl.
But she was losing hope. Who would fall in love with her? Her sister said she was very easy to fall in love with. But that was her sister. Will her soulmate even want to love someone so broken like her? Who would want to deal with that mess.
But that was too much dependency. Okay, fine. She was a coward and she did need someone to save her. But she would never accept it. She would keep dropping subtle hints, but she wouldn’t reveal her story when someone asks, even if that someone means good. She was like that, sometimes, she didn’t even know herself.
But that was okay as long as she still dreamed. Once she would stop dreaming, she’d know that she was completely and irrevocably broken. Crushed to pieces.
justanotherdreamer 