Status: Never give up. You are enough.
No One Said It'd Be Easy.
Twenty Three: Why?
I think the number one question lurking through our minds at all times is: why?
Why does anything happen?
Why does that hobo live in the street and not in an eleven-story mansion? Why do people feel worthless, useless, and simply sad? Why can't we admit our true feelings? Why?
Right now, I'm thinking: Why does she want to die?
Why can't she see how much I care? How much we all care?
Why can't I save her?
Why does Marissa continue to mess with her head?
I think it's time for an explanation.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful, driven, girl named Memily, my cousin. Her mother lied to her her whole life. For sixteen years, Memily thought that Ray was her father. When M was about ten or younger, Ray left. He left Taylor, M's little brother too. Ray really is Taylor's father though. Ray left and moved on to another family. He re-married a younger woman and had his own child with her. M always thought that it was her fault that he left and that it was because of her, that she wasn't good enough for a father. Well, right before her sixteenth birthday, she found out that Ray wasn't her biological father, and that David was. Thus, Heather, her mom, had been lying to her. So with David now in her life, Heather and David started dating and they were even going to get married. But of course, that didn't last because Heather is fucking crazy. Within all of this, Memily had started cutting, burning, popping pills, and doing only "God" knows what. As far as I know, she started in December, 2010, but it's quite possible that this has been going on for longer.
Our grandma lives out in the country, in the middle of nowhere. Literally. When we were kids, we used to go out to Grandma's all the time, whenever we could. Memily and I are kind of "country girl's", i guess. We love the smell of the open air, the feel of the wind swiping across your cheeks, the scratch of the corn stalks when they're just beginning to grow. But my favorite is the stars: the way the night sky is so clear. There's something special about the way the stars look; a way that is invisible to anyone in the city. Memily and I used to sit in the TV room at Grandma's and watch America's Funniest Home Videos for hours on end. Just laughing our asses off, laughing until it hurt. I miss those days: the days where everything was just about the laughs, not the tears or the blood, but the laughs. Memily and I used to laugh. We used to laugh until we peed our pants, which has happened before.
Memily doesn't have an easy life, but does anyone really? Sure, her mother is a lying, crazy, psychopath. Sure, her brothers are annoying as fuck. Sure, our family is a little dysfunctional. But, she has me. But am I enough?
It started with one person: Marissa. Memily is a bisexual girl living in a homophobic home. She found another best friend, Marissa in whom she confided in, trusted, and believed. She developed a crush. The thing is that Marissa plays with her. She messes with her head. She told her that she liked Memily back, that she wanted to date her. But she didn't. She likes Ben. Ben, that's all she ever talks about. Marissa is so bad, she even kissed Memily. In fact, she was M's first kiss. And because of that, M fell harder. Which led to Marissa using M as her fucking play toy.
Memily wants to die. Today, she asked me how much Sudafed PE it takes to overdose. She told me she hated everybody-except me. She said she wanted it all to end and "it's not like anyone cares." Which is a lie. I care. I care so much. I just want to take all your pain away and hold you until you're alright again. Until you're truly alright, none of that "Mhm, I'm fine" bullshit. Because we both know that's a lie, every time you say it. I don't care what I have to do, but I am determined to make you smile: a genuine, happy, NON-faked smile.
I will do it before I die, I promise.
Never, never, never give up.
So now, I'm asking you: Why?
But, we'll never know that, will we?
We will never feel what she feels because it's not us who are hurting in the same way she is.
My final question is: am I enough to keep you from dying, Memily? How many times can you break before you end it all? And will I be the one to save you, or the one to read a eulogy at your funeral?
Why does anything happen?
Why does that hobo live in the street and not in an eleven-story mansion? Why do people feel worthless, useless, and simply sad? Why can't we admit our true feelings? Why?
Right now, I'm thinking: Why does she want to die?
Why can't she see how much I care? How much we all care?
Why can't I save her?
Why does Marissa continue to mess with her head?
I think it's time for an explanation.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful, driven, girl named Memily, my cousin. Her mother lied to her her whole life. For sixteen years, Memily thought that Ray was her father. When M was about ten or younger, Ray left. He left Taylor, M's little brother too. Ray really is Taylor's father though. Ray left and moved on to another family. He re-married a younger woman and had his own child with her. M always thought that it was her fault that he left and that it was because of her, that she wasn't good enough for a father. Well, right before her sixteenth birthday, she found out that Ray wasn't her biological father, and that David was. Thus, Heather, her mom, had been lying to her. So with David now in her life, Heather and David started dating and they were even going to get married. But of course, that didn't last because Heather is fucking crazy. Within all of this, Memily had started cutting, burning, popping pills, and doing only "God" knows what. As far as I know, she started in December, 2010, but it's quite possible that this has been going on for longer.
Our grandma lives out in the country, in the middle of nowhere. Literally. When we were kids, we used to go out to Grandma's all the time, whenever we could. Memily and I are kind of "country girl's", i guess. We love the smell of the open air, the feel of the wind swiping across your cheeks, the scratch of the corn stalks when they're just beginning to grow. But my favorite is the stars: the way the night sky is so clear. There's something special about the way the stars look; a way that is invisible to anyone in the city. Memily and I used to sit in the TV room at Grandma's and watch America's Funniest Home Videos for hours on end. Just laughing our asses off, laughing until it hurt. I miss those days: the days where everything was just about the laughs, not the tears or the blood, but the laughs. Memily and I used to laugh. We used to laugh until we peed our pants, which has happened before.
Memily doesn't have an easy life, but does anyone really? Sure, her mother is a lying, crazy, psychopath. Sure, her brothers are annoying as fuck. Sure, our family is a little dysfunctional. But, she has me. But am I enough?
It started with one person: Marissa. Memily is a bisexual girl living in a homophobic home. She found another best friend, Marissa in whom she confided in, trusted, and believed. She developed a crush. The thing is that Marissa plays with her. She messes with her head. She told her that she liked Memily back, that she wanted to date her. But she didn't. She likes Ben. Ben, that's all she ever talks about. Marissa is so bad, she even kissed Memily. In fact, she was M's first kiss. And because of that, M fell harder. Which led to Marissa using M as her fucking play toy.
Memily wants to die. Today, she asked me how much Sudafed PE it takes to overdose. She told me she hated everybody-except me. She said she wanted it all to end and "it's not like anyone cares." Which is a lie. I care. I care so much. I just want to take all your pain away and hold you until you're alright again. Until you're truly alright, none of that "Mhm, I'm fine" bullshit. Because we both know that's a lie, every time you say it. I don't care what I have to do, but I am determined to make you smile: a genuine, happy, NON-faked smile.
I will do it before I die, I promise.
Never, never, never give up.
So now, I'm asking you: Why?
But, we'll never know that, will we?
We will never feel what she feels because it's not us who are hurting in the same way she is.
My final question is: am I enough to keep you from dying, Memily? How many times can you break before you end it all? And will I be the one to save you, or the one to read a eulogy at your funeral?
♠ ♠ ♠
Every one has some sort of pain in their lives. Every one feels worthless, ugly, and useless every now and then. So for those who are reading this, you are enough. You are beautiful inside and out. And you mean the world to someone, somewhere, whether you know it or not. I just thought you should know.And, never give up.