The kid who always wore long sleeve shirts

Right now I feel hurt but in a comfortable way. Right know I remember that cutting was always easier than crying. But I'm smiling in a way, because I love me. And that's all that matters. This is something I started writing a few years ago. Wish I wrote more of it:

We are the philosophers of today’s world
This is a useless story. This is not a story of the kid with the worst life. Just a kid who’s depressed all the time. The next thought could make him lose it, or maybe the first pill could make him feel ok. He feels stuck in a depression. Will somehow force a smile during the day; but at night he has the worst feeling in the world, yet he also seems the closest he can be to happiness then. The days drag by so slow. So much that no one can relate. Some people have bad days; this kid lives them.
It starts when he wakes up every morning to the sounds of his favorite song. Sadly, that’s usually the best part of his day. That second when he’s first awake, and reality hasn’t struck him yet. Reality hits him like the shiver that gets sent down your spine when you pull the sheets down on a cold winter morning. He immediately gets out of bed. Except on the days when he debates going back to bed cause he can’t deal with this fucked up world today. He doesn’t try to think of a reason to get out of bed, he just does. Because he knows he’s lost (forever) the only reason he had.
He drags his heavy heart out of bed, and will go take a shower. He lingers in the shower, because he loves the warm feeling of it. Because it’s the only warm feeling that will go through his body all day. He doubts if his heart will get a warm feeling ever again. Then, right before he open that bathroom door he starts the acting part of his day. If there’s one thing this kid’s good at, it’s acting. Fake smiles are on the top of the list for things this kid hates; yet he wears one everyday. This boy has realized that ignorance of problems is the real definition of happiness. This is the beginning of a typical morning for him.
Then he tries to get out of the house as fast as he can. Just because he hates the sound of voices that early in the morning. He’ll go outside and get in his car, and take the short drive to school. He wishes it were so much longer. This is one of the few times during the day when he feels (almost) home. Looking at all the sights as he’s driving, because if he looks hard enough, there are still beautiful places. He’s thrown a C.D. in that will wake him up and just possibly give him enough energy to get through another day. The speakers pump energy through his bloodstream, and the lyrics that seem so depressing make this boy smile a little bit. Underneath the rhymes, he knows that there’s a story similar to his. Knowing that he’s not the only kid like this, gives him a little bit of hope. Maybe he could make it, and his words will be the ones flowing through speakers somewhere, keeping some other kid alive.
He pulls into the parking lot. Usually he’s one the first ones there. A lot of times he’ll take the second parking spot, because he knows he’ll always be the second best. He sits in his car for a minute, and just listens to the song that’s on. It’s a calming feeling, and sometimes he wishes he could just sit there all day. When he feels confident that he’s (not) ready for the day, he gets out of his car. As he walks to school, he always looks up at the sky. Usually just by looking at it, he can tell what kind of day he will have. Sometimes the rain is just to wash away the blood from wrists. It’s only dark and cloudy when he’s down, maybe just so people don’t have to see his sad face. It’s so pathetic. One look at this kid and people will want to look away. He makes people feel so cold and lonely. Why would anyone want to talk to someone who’s this depressed?
He walks into the school, and he will always go to his locker. Sometimes he doesn’t need to, but it just gives him another minute before he’s around people. Every morning, he goes to the band room. There’s always someone in there that he can be comfortable around. Someone that will consider him a friend, whether or not he considers them one. He has not yet found a word that can describe his relationship with this people.
Nothing has been right since she left him. He second-guesses everything; he looks for all the lies hidden behind the truth. He doesn’t want to have any friends, but he needs them to survive. The closer a friend gets to him, the more likely he is to pus them away. Which happens all the time, because the second he meets someone; he will open up to them. Pour what’s left of his sad, sorry, (almost) empty heart out.
It’s just because he needs someone to listen. And some of those times, he needs advice to. But that’s what makes this kid the fucked up boy he is. He’ll never get advice. Because no one he opens up to has felt like this. This lonely, for this long. People may think they understand him, but how? Nobody knows you better than yourself, and this boy doesn’t even have a clue of who he really is. His minds dead because of the love that his black heart is stuck in. He tries to speak from the soul, because that seems like the part of him that isn’t totally ruined. But sometimes even that is hard.