𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥, 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖

soy libre, y lo siendo hace un par de semanas nadie me está viendo, nadie me busca hace ya tiempo y está bien porque yo tampoco lo hago un poco triste, pero liberador  ya no más

The first time I opened to my friends, in my car, about how much I hated myself, all the terrible and horrendous things I've said to myself during all my life, I saw how my friend's heart was broken on my behalf. Her eyes hurt, I saw pain and how bad she felt that I was saying all these words about her friend. I'd never seen second-hand pain in anyone's faces, specially if it was directed towards me. Everytime I speak harshly to me, that I treat me bad, I remember those eyes, that second-hand pain in them.  I'm sorry for hurting me in silence, for not telling you about it.