Words are meaningless.

I'm sorry that I made this statement true.

I was going to try, I really was. I just put it off, blamed it on the pills, blamed it on the aftermath of the sickness that I tried to quit for you. And I did quit it. I still think about it, but I quit it. It's done. No more. No stolen toothbrushes and mysterious running water. It hurt you to see me suffer, so I stopped. Maybe I shouldn't have stopped for you, but for God. But I don't know how to do anything for God anymore. It doesn't motivate me anymore. Gosh, in the back of my mind, I know that He's forgiving and loving and His plan is perfect, but that doesn't motivate me anymore. Why? I don't understand why I have to be broken over and over again. Take away my head, take away my body, take away my heart--I have nothing left! I'm that same kid I was in the seventh grade who got called fat and ugly and then went and cut herself in the bathroom. There's really nothing different about me now except for the fact that I'm older. 1 step forward, 329432848 steps back! Gah...