i've lived a rather lonesome life. moved around a lot, raised by a slightly insane single mother, and i had no friends.
recently, i haven't been doing so well. i've had much on my mind and was recently laid off. i've been thinking about cutting as a way to 'cope'. i know myself well enough to know when i can't be trusted with a knife.
so when i descended further into that mindset, i decided to give my knife to my roommate and go to my friend's place to talk. after some time, he helped me to get a grip on myself. told me why i shouldn't cut, how it'll affect me and those around me, and also told my friend that he's worried. for a vast majority of the time, i didn't look at my phone.
after my friend fell asleep while watching a movie, i check my phone to something nice. it was my other telling me that he's kept me in his life bc i have value and he appreciates me, and how i've grown.
i don't cry much thanks to a rough childhood. but everytime i think about how others care for me and how i actually have friends who are true, it brings me to tears. i never truly knew whaf it's like to have friends until now, 22 years into life.