The only difference between life and death...

Pain hurts. I suppose that lies within the definition itself, but who knew that it could bring me into a downward spiral going into a black hole of emptiness? Once again, my heart is slowly losing its petals. I imagine it in my youth as vibrant as a red rose, and as I go throughout life, the petals wither away, like in Beauty and the Beast. Each time another person comes into my life and leaves me crying on the floor in the end (I should have known, right?) yet one more petal falls as well. This year has been so rough for me already. I'm going through so many changes in my life and all I want is someone to share it with. Apparently, no one wants to be in my life. They use me, for one thing or another and leave me out to dry like an old dish towel. It is taking every ounce of will power in my being right now not to grab a safety pin and be the one to cause myself pain. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I've worked so hard to be above the influence, above my depression, above everything that has hurt me in the past. It is not working as well as I had hoped, but I'm still going strong. Next year this time I will be a completely different person. After my surgery in August, I will be able to be the person I feel like on the inside most of the time. I'm so sick and tired of hiding behind my weight. I am so scared of rejection, of hate, of dying alone. Part of me feels like I will never find someone to love me, no matter how many times people tell me otherwise. Sure, it helps for the meantime, but I still cry myself to sleep at night knowing I'm alone, knowing no one is there to hold me or kiss me goodnight, and knowing that there is not someone out there thinking of me. The only difference between life and death is that death is less painful... but much more of a cop out than life. I will push forward and try to fight my emotions. I will fight the urges for my mania and my depression and hopefully, someday, maybe, be a normal person.