I think it started back when I entered High School, and I would spend entire nights just staring at my arms, wishing there was some sort of magical lotion or bandage that could erase all these obviously self-inflicted cuts. I would be so ashamed, I would write myself an angry letter, boldly declaring I would … Continue reading I expected him to change, because he said he would change, and I am in the habit of believing bad people when they tell me they’ll do something.