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Description
Other people seem to all be happy, and their cute stories and fun memories run like rusty knives through open wounds in my head, tearing and ripping any sense of comfort I have built throughout my failed attempt at living. I know it isn't about me. I know I should be happy. But I can't help but feel pain. My blood feels like it is boiling in my head with all the hatred I feel towards myself, because I know damn well what this all says about me.

Description
Other people seem to all be happy, and their cute stories and fun memories run like rusty knives through open wounds in my head, tearing and ripping any sense of comfort I have built throughout my failed attempt at living. I know it isn't about me. I know I should be happy. But I can't help but feel pain. My blood feels like it is boiling in my head with all the hatred I feel towards myself, because I know damn well what this all says about me.