Immortal Band-Aid

They say time heals all. When someone dies, it only takes time to heal, when you are bullied, it only takes time to heal, when your parents separate, it only takes time to heal.

If time heals all then why am I still hurting from all of the above? Why does it still hurt when I think about my parents separating ten years ago, why does it hurt when I think about the hurtful words kids said five years ago, why does it still hurt when I think about my dad dying two years ago?

If time heals all, why am I not healed? Am I broken? Am I the only thing time cannot heal?

My mom says just give it time, and I will get better over time. But I have come to think that time heals nothing and it's more that you built a tolerance to it. You just get used to it being that way and it doesn't faze you as much.

I have a low tolerance level. It still hurts when I think about all the bad and it is so hard to think about all the good. Two week s before my dad died I told him I never wanted to see him again, because he had cheated on my mom. I still hurt because of that.

When I came back to his apartment two weeks later I found him dead, he had killed himself because of me. Is that why it hurts so much? Because I was the death of him?

I'm tired of everyone telling me it's not my fault and that he had some issues way before I even came over that day. The truth of the matter was that in his note he said he would rather die than me not talk to him. And he meant it.

Time is my immortal Band-Aid that keeps falling off and I have to try to get it to stick on. It's the Band-Aid everyone remembers but never the wounds you had under.

Everyone fears that once the Band-Aid falls off it will spread a disease if you touch it. It's gross but it wouldn't hurt to pick it up and throw it in the trash.

If I could throw my immortal Band-Aid in the trash and forget it even happened, I would. I would forget about the divorce, and the bullying, and the deaths, and the hurt I feel every day.

But I can't. My pain can't heal over time. Because time heals nothing. If anything time makes the wounds hurt worse, it makes them more sore, and it is something you have to live with. Like an invisible disability.

The worst thing though, is that all my wounds left unhealed lead to my dark depression. I dwell on the past and cry about the future. I don't want to be here anymore. I have waited so long for time to heal my wounds, just so time can make my wounds become infected. And now I am broken, time cant heal that. I have ten years worth of pain that time couldn't heal.

So it is now that I rip off my immortal Band-Aid and let the wounds bleed out. By the time they stop I'll be dead. So I grab my razor and with every wound I counted.

One cut.

Two cut.

Three cut.

I started to feel dizzy as I watched the blood drip on the floor.

Four cut.

Five cut.

The room was getting hazy.

Six cut.

Seven cut.

I felt my legs collapse as I hit my head on the bathroom sink. I felt the pain thrive through out my entire body, and just to think soon I will be numb. Nothing will hurt and I will be safe.

My eye lids grew heavy as I closed them softly. As I gasped for one last breathe I saw my mom fall on the floor, tears flooding down her face as she screamed for help.

But it's to late mom, I'm already gone.