I don't think I'll ever understand how such a debilitating hurt can turn to uncontrollable anger in my hands. If all I want is to feel loved and be held, why does it soothe me to inflict pain on myself?

Part of me wishes I could just blame you, but these things about me have, for too long, been true. And the other part will always protect you, continue to hold the respect that I've lost for you. And fight to preserve the fading image I have of you.