She was set on killing herself today. She read my flirtatious text messages and she was serious about not wanting anything to do with me anymore. I walked into the room just before she could put on her sweater. I saw some blood on her cheeks and the rest on her wrist… it was over-kill.
Immediately, I knew I should’ve deleted those text messages, that I should’ve told her to leave earlier, that I should’ve taken my phone with me, or that - at the very least - I should’ve stayed in bed instead of into the living room. Of course, I could’ve also have just not flirted altogether.
I was going to talk to her today about just cooling things off, about distance, about taking care of herself instead of always relying on me… but then this happened, and I knew if I had let her walk out that door, she’d be determined to find some way of killing herself.
I wouldn’t be so tired of always helping her out if it wasn’t for the fact that she also has feelings for me. I remember, with every fiber in my being, why I prefer flings and one-nighters over actual relationships; I am the type of person who always wants to help someone, but can’t always do so when romance is mixed into the situation. People start keeping secrets, hurting others once it becomes public knowledge, and then it doesn’t matter how reliable you are as person, the fact that you cheated/fooled-around destroys that trust… if you’re all someone has, and you date them only to fuck up, then they feel as though they lost everything.
I put myself in the same situation as I was in the past, only now I see that suicide isn’t a threat, but a promise.