You don’t know me. And if you did, you wouldn’t want to. Because I’m not someone people like. I’m the one they talk about once I’m away. I’m the bad example, the pathetic one. The one that everybody just leaves behind. That’s all the voice inside my head keeps telling me. And that voice makes it so easy to believe.
It’s easy to drive people away. Easy to keep everyone at an arms-length until you make them disappear. So easy to tell yourself that you are no good, that you are a failure and that you don’t deserve any happiness, let alone love. All lies are easy, especially when there is a darkness threating to consume you from the inside out. But they are not real.
Friendship is hard. It requires patience, strength, affection and the ability to forgive. We are all just human. Some of as may be worse than others but in the end, we all feel something. The hard part is finding the ones that are worth fighting for and not letting the bad ones drag you down. Once you realize that the cruelest people are deeply insecure and fearful, you can only pity them. They certainly do not deserve you.
You don’t know me and maybe you never will. I like to think that you do though. I like to believe that there is hope if I am more terrified of dying than I am of people. And if I still believe in hope, there might be a chance to find a cure for this emptiness that eats me up inside. Maybe one day, I will not have to pretend that I am fine.
I don’t really wish for happiness anymore. I would be more than content with being able to say that I am “okay” and mean it. Maybe one day, I’ll say it to you.