Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you. Nicole I hate you.

Why do I cry? Like really why? Does every emotion I have result in crying? Is that how it is now yeah?

People who patronise me make me want to cry. Not even out of pain or insult. Just purely out of anger. I feel I'm going to burst, but then... I cry...
I have a sick loathing towards anyone patronising. If I could rip they're head off I would tbh. Wankers.

Nicole it's time to wash your face and return to a smile. You don't want them to know you've been crying.

Same thing, every fucking day.

Music is helpful. It's helpful to drown out the violent sobs, and the murmurs of desperation. It's helpful to blur out the bangs and crashes on the walls. It's helpful to cover up the fall to the floor. It's helpful to disguise the scraches and punches as injuries. It's helpful to keep it a secret.

You don't understand. And it hurts.
I want to leave, please.

Fucking worthless. 
You make me feel like shit. What have I done wrong for you to treat me like this? Please please tell me. Why?

What am I even worth to you? Nothing at all I'm assuming.

When jealously becomes a problem. You've got to tell yourself to shut the hell up, and pull yourself together. You trust. You love. You believe. That's it.
And you've just got to take his word, because you trust him, you do. And you trust her. You do. Never trust them. Because they don't know him, or her, or you. They know what they can assume. Which is nothing. Ignorant bastards. And how does it work? When I become... not myself... that is how. I am my own destroyer, and yet I am also my own doctor.

So fix up Nicole
God blessed you. Don't take that for granted.

I feel a bit shitty, I just hope it's not coming back. I don't think I can deal with that again.