I feel like I am dying. Emotionally that is. My siblings all have their favourite and then there is me. No reason for me. Seven is an odd number. If you have six you're fine, because it can be divided evenly. I try so hard to be understanding, kinder, and more open. I try hard to not get angry, but it doesn't work. I have no idea why I cry while sending this. I just crying. I don't have a reason. I love each day hoping it will be different, but each night I curl up in my bed and cry. I have no reason to exist. Maybe the reason is because I am just an accessory for people to use. Not anything special, just something they can use, and when they are done they can throw me away, or give me to someone else as a gift. That's probably the reason I exist. It's the fact that I am an accessory, the fact that I can't have different things happen each day. It's that reason, I am forced to live. That reason why I am not allowed to commit suicide. Do I mean anything to anyone? Or am I just an accessory? I don't even know if my boyfriend loves me or not. And if he does, does he truly mean the words he spouts? I don't know anymore. I am just an accessory after all. That information is used as a weapon against me. Life is my double edged sword, but death won't end my job as an accessory. People will still use me. No matter what I do, I am an accessory.