Dear Sometimes,
1/1
Sometimes I have dark days, days where it feels as though the sun has turned to ash in my mouth and the effort it takes to lift my limbs in a functioning order is impossible, when my puppetmaster forgets me and I must struggle as an unaided marionette. And sometimes there are whole weeks, months, even, of this. When my eyes wish to keep their peace with every blink and never return to the land of the seeing. Sometimes, I give up, utterly, and there is nothing but time, and endless eternity, in front of me. And there are days that I am okay, that my laugh is not forced, and my focus is sharp, and the monster inside me does no claw at my insides to be released, but is tamed. And these days may be far and few between, with the passage of time, but they’re something. They are me, the real me, victorious at having fought myself out of the darkness. These are the days that I can laugh with you, hold you, talk with you and comfort you. These are the days you love the most, I can tell, even though you know not the reality of them.
But those dark days, those are the days in which I need you. I need you because these are the days in which the fog rolls in and I can see nothing else, nothing worth anything. I mean, before you, there was nothing at all. And the fog took my reason and gave me urges. Urges of the darkest kind, and I am ashamed to say that I acted on them. I had no one to lift me up, except Ana and the blade. But I pushed myself to the top once more, and left these things behind. And it was hard, it was so hard, for so long. But then I met you, and no, you did not make it all go away, but you made it better. You made me better; you made me want to try. And I never admitted the root of it all to you. I told you of the days spent watching the crimson swirl, and the delicious ache of a zero-calorie day, but never once did I tell you of the darkness inside of me, that ruled my faculties, that kept me under water for so long that I could not remember the presence of salt in my eyes, on my tongue, in my lungs and in my soul. I cannot remember a life without sadness, without an inexplicable weight. And finally the words came spilling out, twisting through the air for your ears alone, and the first of all to know. And that rejection, it hurt, a real hurt, something separate from the desperate ache of all my days, sharp and stinging, the way your tongue launched those spiteful words back at me.
I’m sorry; I just want to say that right out. It is unfair to ask this of you, I knew what would happen. I could see the weight settling on your shoulders, the blue of your eyes tinting darker. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was just so bad. . . It has been so much worse as of late, it’s been years since I’ve felt this kind of lost, the one that makes hope into a wish to sleep forever. . .
Just know that I love you. And that I’m not angry, I never will be. I remembering reading this quote once, and it being so true, and it made me think of you right from the first word: “ Some friends don’t understand this. They don’t understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you’re wonderful just the way you are. They don’t understand that I can’t remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would.”
But I’m strong enough today (today ended up being a bittersweet day, bouncing back and forth between good and bad so fast that comprehension is impossible) and I want to say that I forgive you, even though you may never say sorry. You’re my best friend and I will never hold this against you. I know you’re scared and I know you’ve never dealt with something like this before. I’ll never mention it again, I’ll retreat into my silence, because you mean that much to me and I never want to lose you. I love you. I just wish you would try to understand.
Love,
Forever
But those dark days, those are the days in which I need you. I need you because these are the days in which the fog rolls in and I can see nothing else, nothing worth anything. I mean, before you, there was nothing at all. And the fog took my reason and gave me urges. Urges of the darkest kind, and I am ashamed to say that I acted on them. I had no one to lift me up, except Ana and the blade. But I pushed myself to the top once more, and left these things behind. And it was hard, it was so hard, for so long. But then I met you, and no, you did not make it all go away, but you made it better. You made me better; you made me want to try. And I never admitted the root of it all to you. I told you of the days spent watching the crimson swirl, and the delicious ache of a zero-calorie day, but never once did I tell you of the darkness inside of me, that ruled my faculties, that kept me under water for so long that I could not remember the presence of salt in my eyes, on my tongue, in my lungs and in my soul. I cannot remember a life without sadness, without an inexplicable weight. And finally the words came spilling out, twisting through the air for your ears alone, and the first of all to know. And that rejection, it hurt, a real hurt, something separate from the desperate ache of all my days, sharp and stinging, the way your tongue launched those spiteful words back at me.
I’m sorry; I just want to say that right out. It is unfair to ask this of you, I knew what would happen. I could see the weight settling on your shoulders, the blue of your eyes tinting darker. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was just so bad. . . It has been so much worse as of late, it’s been years since I’ve felt this kind of lost, the one that makes hope into a wish to sleep forever. . .
Just know that I love you. And that I’m not angry, I never will be. I remembering reading this quote once, and it being so true, and it made me think of you right from the first word: “ Some friends don’t understand this. They don’t understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you’re wonderful just the way you are. They don’t understand that I can’t remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would.”
But I’m strong enough today (today ended up being a bittersweet day, bouncing back and forth between good and bad so fast that comprehension is impossible) and I want to say that I forgive you, even though you may never say sorry. You’re my best friend and I will never hold this against you. I know you’re scared and I know you’ve never dealt with something like this before. I’ll never mention it again, I’ll retreat into my silence, because you mean that much to me and I never want to lose you. I love you. I just wish you would try to understand.
Love,
Forever