Hello, I’m glad you’re here. I’m going to tell you a story of someone I love, of someone I hangout with all the time. This is the story of Abby and I.
A cold evening, I walk into Abby’s room. She’s on her bed, listening to music.
I watched in silence, soon interrupted by a call. It was her friend. She asked if Abby wanted to go out tonight. Abby doesn’t get it. She’s too naïve. I told her that her friends dont really want to go out with her, and that they pity her. She didn’t listen to me, she agreed to go out. I tried so hard to stop her, while she brushed me off and springed into her closet. She walked out, wearing her little black dress. I told her that she looked fat. I asked her to try another dress, and another, and another. You see, I was just being honest. I said that she looked hideous in every outfit, and she should just cancel.
She agreed. She cancelled, just like last time.
Abby was in her study, I walked in to check on her. She had an essay to complete for english class. I read what she had written. I told her that it wasn’t good enough, that it didn’t matter if it was good enough or no, because no one believed in her.
She agreed. She tossed the paper into the bin. She didn’t try again, just like last time.
I saw Abby go to her room. That means, it was time. I waited all day, for that moment. When she tries to sleep. I remind her how her parents don’t care enough, how her friends just pity her, that nobody loves her and I am all she has, because she tries to get rid of me all the time. She has to know that she cannot, ever.
Just when she had begun to give in to me, her phone buzzed. It was that friend again. Abby got out of bed. She put on the little black dress, that I told her she looked fat in. I pleaded her to stop. And then I screamed, I ordered, but she didn’t listen.
She mumbled to herself “You can do this. You’re more than just these voices, don’t listen. You’re beautiful and there are people waiting, that love you for just the way you are. You don’t need validation. Walk out, now.”
As I heard her speak, I felt hollow, I could see my skin melt, as though I did not exist anymore, for Abby.
She left. She walked out on me.
confidence in one’s own worth or abilities; self-respect.
Hello, I’m Abigail, or as friends call me, Abby. For a long time, I had lost my voice, to my head. I was empty. I cried, shaking in my bed, for no reason at all. I hated to look into the mirror, I had fallen out of love with myself. I overthought everything. If it exists, I’ve thought of it. I did leave home a lot of times, to meet people that cared, to make it up to them. But I could feel the street tilting, like something pulling me back home, my feet paralysed. This voice at the back of my head kept saying things to me, to pull me down, to break me.
But this time, I tried to hold on.
This time, I made it through.
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