So. I'm not sure how to start. I don't know if I want to date these. I don't think I will.
I felt really bad last night. For a while. I always feel bad at night. I'm less...scared, than I used to be. I guess. I guess. I guess. I don't know. I always feel scared, so maybe that's it. It's just a permanent feeling in the back of my head. I'm terrified. So it feels less prominent than it used to, and therefore, I feel less afraid - because . fear is all I feel? Haha. that doesn't make any sense. Of course, I feel other things, too. It's just always accompanied by a terribly deep and gnawing fear of . something. I don't know. I'll have to do everything again tonight. and then. again and again.and again. and again. I always stay up late because that's when it's easiest to find people who might. Want me. I guess. I don't think it's me they want. I think it's just what I can give them. I think people liked me more when I was younger. That's creepy, isn't it? Haha. I try to make money other ways. It works, sometimes, but not. Often. I always have to resort to. selling my body, in the end. lol. It's kind of all I know, now. For a while, I wasn't sure how to really have a normal relationship with someone without trying to sleep with them. Because. I just thought that's what everyone wanted from me. I still don't really know how to have a normal relationship with anyone. I guess I'm always kind of expecting someone to want something from me in the end. You know, it's not like I'm sex-repulsed or anything, I just...I don't know. I'd like to, for once, sleep with someone who at least kind of actually likes me. It'd be even better if they ... loved me! But that's wishful thinking.
I get really nervous when I actually get anywhere with...a client? I don't like calling them that. I don't like thinking of them as anything. I don't know. But I get nervous. Whenever we're actually about to fuck, I always feel like. Like I want to run away. But I can't. I initiated it, and I need the money. I need to stay. Even if I really, really don't want to! Sometimes, when I have the money, I drink before sleeping with anyone. It's a lot easier. because I don't have as much room to think.
God. I don't know. It's not like I want this. I. Never would've started doing this if people didn't. try and get with me first. I never would've. I was young. I was really young. People wanted me more than they ever should've. And . I didn't. have any other choice. There was nothing I could do. I fought against it. I didn't want them to do anything. But I was a kid. and I was scrawny and weak and scared and they were so much . bigger than me. I couldn't do anything. And it really hurt. I think they ruined me, at least a bit. I bled a lot. I had to clean myself up. And nobody was there to save me. And then I got older. And I needed the money, really bad. Like, really, really bad. I had nothing. And I had enough brains to think that . if people are going to try and take what they want from me. I could at least make them pay for it. Lol. Lollll. I guess I've grown more apathetic towards it over the years. My body hurts and I'm tired and my heartrate always spikes when anyone gets close to me. Sometimes if I'm really out of it, a stranger touching me, even by accident, is enough to make my cry! Haha. It's so stupid. I hate myself. I hate what I do. I don't think I could ever really get with someone romantically, because - why would you ever want me? I think all I'm really good for is my body. It'd probably make any potential love interest of mine sick if they knew how totally used up I am. It's like eating week-old leftovers. Lol. Not worth it. I'm not worth it. I feel kind of helpless. I'd love to get a real job, but. I literally can't. Because I don't exist. I have no documents or identification. I don't exist. I'm unhireable outside of odd jobs that I do for random people. So I'm kind of...stuck. Haha . ha. haha. Oh my god. It's seriously going to be this way for the rest of my life. Until, of course, I'm old and gross. LOL. LOL!!!! AHHH. I should've killed myself for real on god on my mama oh my god
I feel kind of sick. I don't think I'll be able to get much done tonight. I kind of hate myself for that. LOLLLLL. You'd think my immune system would be better than this, but. I've definitely got a fever. I. Guess I should still try. But. I don't want to get anyone else sick. Or like, pass out on someone. Accccckkkk.
I feel safe with Kage. Ah.
I don't usually like people touching me. But I've found that I really don't mind when he does. I guess I trust him. It's like...Rantaro, and Kokichi. And Maki. I don't talk about her much. Our friendship was a bit rockier. She didn't touch me much, but she was always so much more gentle than you'd expect when she did. I held her some nights. Ahh. Haha. I love all of my friends. Even the ones I don't see anymore.
It kind of...sticks with me forever, when I meet people who don't. Do what everyone else does. People who don't hurt me like everyone else does. None of them would ever make me do anything I didn't want to do. They were all so good. Ahaah. It's bittersweet, thinking about them.
It's always hard to go back to work after taking a break from it. I don't know. Can I really even call it "work"? I don't know. The thought of going back to it almost makes me want to cry. Haha. Like a little kid. Stupid. Uh. Luckily, I'm staying with Kage for. An indefinite amount of time now. Probably another week, at the least. I think something is coming up this week. He's written about it a lot. I'm worried. So. Hopefully I can be here for him a bit better. Y'know, because I'll actually be here physically. I don't like when he doesn't feel good.
Ehhhhhhhhuufjnijnnajkfnkfnefmfwkfninfijnvewfojlfdnlnflwfnlwfjwlflwljjfjfjfjwifheighhyhguygfayuhfwsjlgkfmwnkjawnfj. Old habits die hard. I miss it. And, that's so bad, because I hate it. I hate it more than anything. But I don't really know what I am without it. Has it seriously gotten so bad that I can't see myself as anything other than a sex object? LOL. Okay. I can't stand it. I'm sorry. I'm so upset right now and I don't know why. Everything always hurts. Some days it hurts less but those days are few and far between. It hurts. Really bad. I usually sleep on my side because it. hurts. I don't want to be anything. Things are better now and I still feel like I'm always on the verge of killing myself. It wouldn't be the first time I have. Haha. Get it? Have I already made that joke? I don't remember. I need him to pick me apart and kill me. I'd let him. He could do whatever he wants to me and I'd let him. I'll never back out. I promise.
hey. do you remember when. uh. when we first met? i was...i don't know. 16, i think. a year before i met rantaro.? i had brown hair. it was short and messy 'cos i never took care of it. who did i introduce myself as? uhh...it was an english name. wren? wren, i forget the surname. last name. wren lastname. haha. i don't know. where did we meet? i was on the ground. you thought i was dead. you poked and poked until i moved. and then you got scared and screamed as if you weren't the one poking me like a bug. i said...uh...i told you to calm down. i was panicking because i didn't want you to draw any attention to me. why was i on the ground? i don't remember. i think i had taken something really bad. and curled up on the grass. i was out of it when we talked. and i think you noticed. later on, you told me you initially assumed i was some sort of druggie. i guess i kind of was. i just took what people gave me. i didn't know anything about that stuff. all i knew was that people liked me more when i did what they told me to. i don't know why you stayed and spoke with me. i never really understood you at all, now that i think about it. you were so strange. i liked it. sometimes, i thought you were. some sort of angel. pretending to be human. i don't know why. you seemed like you fell from heaven. not flirtatiously. like, literally. i think i was kind of delusional around that time. considering everything i was indulging in. you kept finding me after that first time. on purpose, you told me. you looked for me because you liked me. really? really? would you still look for me? sorry. i know you couldn't. you. showed me some of the stuff you painted. and it was all gorgeous. i was so blown away. you were getting into sculpting at the time, too. i watched you work, sometimes. and you made me your muse once. i was so embarrassed. but i let you paint me anyways. i think you made me look a lot prettier than i actually was. i didn't understand how you constantly created so much yet still had the time to go out and look for me. your parents travelled a lot. i remember you telling me that when i asked where they were. you said...that they weren't always gone. but they were most of the time. you'd always look for me when you got out of school. you asked me why i was never in school and i made up some lie about being homeschooled. you asked about my parents and i always said they were busy people who worked a lot. you asked if you could come over and i said the house was a mess every single time. i lied to you a lot. i don't think i was that believable. you just didn't feel like pushing. we'd hang out during the day, and then i'd stay out at night and let myself get ruined. rinse and repeat. and then i left. i didn't tell you anything. i was so mean.
i guess you could say my body is, effectively, ruined. it wouldn't be as bad as it is if all of it happened when i was older, i'm sure. but it didn't. my first few months homeless and i had already been raped twice. sorry for using that word. big, scary R word, i know. it always hurts. it hurts to sit. i can't hold my fucking bladder. that's humiliating. more than you know. i can't do basic shit normally because a bunch of useless old people just needed to have their way with me. i should not be nearly pissing myself consistently like an old man at 22 years old. i literally have zero control over it. and, i'm sorry, because i know that's gross. but i hate dancing around it. i can't sit down without it hurting because i have actual torn tissue down there. i'm mangled and gross. people don't fuck me because they're attracted to me. i'm just an easy source of relief. and. sex hurts! it hurts really bad! it's not easy or fun or pleasurable and every second of it hurts ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! jgrnbrgnbkfbvndkmAnd i don't. want it to hurt. i really don't. i want to do things normally and i want to feel good like i should. i want to be able to enjoy it. i want to be able to exist comfortably without losing control of my body or being in some sort of intense and constant pain. it's not fair. at all. i'm not a good person but i. don't deserve this. and, you know. there were a lot of times i didn't want to have sex with people. a lot more than i've stated. and i tell myself those ones don't count because by then i was already a prostitute and was basically asking for it. but i really didn't want it. and i'd ask them to stop and they wouldn't listen. and i guess maybe i shou;dn'vebeen stronger so i coulfl fight themm off or somehting instead of jjust sitting there and taking it but i was scared. i was really scared. it never gets any less scary. it's like. once i realize something is going to happen and it won't stop i freeze up. i can't do anything. at all. except sit there and let it happen. i don't know. i remember all of the blood
goddddddddddddddddddddddddddd. "people like you"? am i just a prostitute to you? is that why you're so scared i'll end up in a snuff film? you treat me like i'm stupid. i haven't gone out and done that shit since i've been living with kagehara. i don't need you to save me. you're about a decade too late for that. and i certainly don't need you to tell me what to do with MY life. all this bullshit about a "chance." i don't care. i don't want your chances or your routes or. whatever the fuck. none of that shit matters to me. i have as much of a chance now as i did when i first ran away. you're only trying to make me do this, to listen to you, because you think you can't do it yourself. like you're living vicariously through me. or something. i had a chance when i was with rantaro. i had a chance when i was with ouma. i had a chance when i was with tsumugi. i have a chance every fucking milisecond of my life. life is nothing but chance. what the hell are you on about? agh.
you barely know me. do you realize that? you barely know me, whoever i am. because i'm sure as hell not who you wish i was. you just don't know me anymore. and i don't know you. you came back in my life only to try so hard to remove yourself from it just as quick. i hate you. you should hate me too. i really fucking hope you do.
you know, if there's anything i DO remember from when i was a kid, it's how lonely i was. i barely saw you. i barely saw anyone. i had you, kaede, kaede's mom, and. literally nobody else. i had your friends, i guess. older kids. nobody fucking liked me! i've been nothing but a pain in the ass for everyone i've ever known since the day i was born. i got picked on a lot. i never told you, because, why would i? it doesn't matter. it's not like they're beating me up. i grew up thinking that mom and dad had abandoned us, and i grew up thinking that it was probably my fault. if i was as unlikeable as i seemed to be, maybe i just drove them off when i was born because i was so inherently terrible. i think i was, what. 9? 9 years old when i cut myself. i had gotten the razor from one of those shitty pencil sharpeners and went to town on my thighs because nobody would see it there. and nobody did. it healed just fine and nobody noticed. when i wrote out my suicide note a year or two later, i didn't know whether i'd actually kill myself or not. i wanted to. i had wanted to for a while, even before you went missing. but i was scared. death is terrifying. i couldn't bring myself to do it. and so i ran and let everyone think i did.
i think i'm a lot closer to being like you than you think. you don't get it. there's no changing this. i can't reverse what's already been done, and you can't either. so, please, stop talking to me like i can be saved. there is no saving to be done. there's nothing. this is it. i'll keep living exactly as i am and i'll end up wherever i'm supposed to. it doesn't matter what route you think there is for me.
you gave me that gun not too long ago and the only reasonable use for it that i can think of is blowing my head off. i want to die so bad, //////. i know you're tired, but i am too! i really, really am! my body. it's like. damaged beyond repair. do you know that? i'm really fucked up. and i'll never be normal again. and everything hurts all of the time and i hate it. and sometimes i can't even bathe myself because i can't stand looking at my body after what i've let happen to it. sometimes i get these really vivid flashbacks. of when i was younger. of being raped. and beat! and it feels like it's happening all over again! and there's nothing i can do! and. i'm so scared. i'm so scared. i'd rather die than live with this for the rest of my life. i can't do it. i'm not strong and i'm not good. i'm barely getting by. it's been like this for years. my life is so much better right now and i still want to kill myself. i'm so scared. i know what they do to people like me, asshole. i'm sorry you've had to see all of that. but fuck. don't remind me. oh my god. you don't get it at all. i know what they do and i've gotten a taste of it first hand. i'm just luckier than others. there's so much shit that's happened to me that i don't even remember because i was fucking drugged out of my mind. i don't know the half of it. and the little bit i do know is enough to nearly drive me to suicide. if i had something that could actually kill me back when i was 15 and ready to attempt, i would've been dead by now. we never would've found each other because i'd be dead. and you'd keep looking for me, stupidly, until you died too. i wish i had died back then. i don't want to do this. i can't live like this, in this body, with everything i've done. there is no route. or. path. especially not without you. i don't want you to leave me again. i can't do it. all you do is leave. you can't. i hate you. i need you. you came back and now you're going to leave again and i can feel it and that's why you're doing all of this. you're going to leave me. wwhy should i listen to you if you're going to leave me?
i never really had parents. anytime i want my parents it becomes glaringly obvious that i just want you. you're all i know. and i barely know you. you can't leave. you should've just lied to me and told me to fuck off when i found you. i can't do this. i want to be held. why can't you just kill me?