There's so much food in the cupboard . . . Did I always have this much?

What did you have for breakfast today? Did it warm up your stomach, preparing you for the chill of the day? For breakfast, I had . . . I had . . . I can't remember what I had this morning. I clearly remember not washing any dishes today so I must have grabbed something . . . Maybe I had a fruit, but I just checked the bin and there's nothing in it. 

I feel tired, but not just physically tired . . . I feel internally tired. I feel like my heart is beating too slowly, and that the blood is pounding against my chest with every heartbeat. Sad, I think sad is what I can describe what I am feeling. Infinite amount of sandbags are sitting on my chest, all filled with sadness in between grains. I don't just feel sad either, there's also something else.

Pain. I feel like blades with the word "hurt" engraved into the metal are stabbing into my heart with each breath I take. It hurts to breathe Luhan, it hurts to breathe. The blades are hitting the same spot, I can feel the hole. It's really big now, and the pain keeps intensifying. 

These days, more tears keep spilling out. All I have to do is to think of you, even when all the pictures are gone, even when all the presents are destroyed. Your face is etched into my mind, I have memorised every feature. All I have to do is picture you, and it's like the knives immediately sharpen. 

Oh, the phone's ringing. It's always ringing. It's the school. I know that because I picked it up the first time it rang. They want me to go back, go back to that hellhole, disgusting piece of horrible place school. I told them I don't want to, except they keep ringing. I'm scared, Luhan, I'm scared. They're going to come here and get me, I know it. They're coming.

Why can't they just leave me alone? I'm holed up in my home prison yet people want to invade my own territory. I'm already suffering as it is. This world is cruel.

Now that I think about it, it's quite ironic really. I've always been thrown around places, no one wanting me. Everyone has left me - and I sadly have added you onto that long list. Yet, there is someone who wants me, or should I say, something. 

No, that doesn't count, does it? They just want me because they're not trying to rip me off, since we paid my school fee. They're good people, right? They're not trying to rip us off. 

Why do they have such mean students then?

//

My head hurts. Where are you when I need you?

Why aren't you still not picking up my calls? This morning I tried and it went straight to that annoying lady, telling me that the phone number is invalid. Have you changed your number already? Do you really hate me that much?

My bed feels so cold, even when I wrap myself up in all the thick blankets I have. My stomach always feels empty but I never feel hungry.

Or maybe I am hungry . . . I don't know, my thoughts are always too loud for me to be aware of anything else. 

Everyday I walk around the house like a ghost, like I'm a zombie. I'm using irony again; I've always hated those horrifying, thrilling movies. My eyes are always swollen and red, my hair a mess. You'll come back, right? I need someone to untangle the knots and braid it back.

Ever since I threw everything away, my home looks so bare . . . It's frightening me a little, it makes me feel more alone. I don't know what to do, I just lie on my bed every hour and stare up at my ceiling. The ceiling is also bare, just a massive rectangle of white. I think I can announce white as a lonely colour. 

What more do I have to say to get you to come back to me? Can't you see that my heart yearns for you? I love you so much, don't you love me too?

I'm dependent, needy, hopeless. I need you back Luhan. So can I ask again? Pretty please?

Where are you?