To the Star of My Galaxy

I've always had this huge fascination with the galaxy. I think it's beautiful, but really, I like it because it scares me. It's huge and never ending. It's dark, except for those millions of twinkling stars. Life is like the galaxy to me. If you look at it as a whole, it's dark and you seem to lose yourself in how small you feel compared to it. It's bleak. But those bright shining stars, those are my memories with you. They stand out against the dark and fight their way to be seen.

But when you see the whole galaxy....it's still dark and bleak, and overwhelming.

I can't say that I've been happy lately. I can't say I've been really happy since middle school. No, maybe it was freshmen year when Mama and Will split. Then again, I've always sort of felt empty, even as a kid. Especially after Mama and daddy divorced. I think it really got worse when Mama and Will split.

I remember one time in middle school, me and my friend were walking around the gym and talking. I can't remember who asked it, but I remember feeling cold, and I felt my stomach twist and my heart started hurting. I finally knew what that empty feeling was. It was death. There's always been a tiny part of me that feels dead.

"Do you ever think of killing yourself?"

The first time I hurt myself was really just to learn, to test myself. I wanted to see if I could do it. I wanted to see if it helped your problems, and it didn't solve any problems. But i felt a huge weight lifted, one I didn't know I was carrying. I knew I felt dead, empty. Burning my skin felt right. Feeling myself punished felt right. I felt in control.

I've been really, really depressed for several years. It's like a roller coaster, which sucks because I hate those. I get to this point where I feel like one day, I'm gonna be okay. I'll go to college, graduate, get a job, marry you, have kids. The sun will shine and there will be reasons to love each day.

Then I reach the top of the coaster, where I look up and I can see the sun. It's so close, and so bright. If I just reached up, I could almost feel it scorch my finger tips.

And I sail straight back down. The sun is forever out of my reach. I scream at the top of my lungs, but I am on this ride alone. And I see the ground, I think I'm going to finally get off the ride, but I plunge straight through the grass, crushed into the dirt. And I stay there.

The sun is so far away, and they always say you'll burn before you touch it. But it looks so..bright. And I guess that's what I've been looking for in my galaxy. Some color, some brightness.

Somewhere inside I still feel like even if I touch the sun, even if I fill my galaxy with suns...I'm here. I'm still here. For what?

What's my purpose? I know I wasn't put on a planet filled with 6 billion people to do anything spectacular. There's so many other people that I don't think I even really matter at all in the grand scheme of things. I'm replaceable. Interchangeable. I'm not special.

So then why was I put here? Is there even a reason? Am I supposed to just scrape by and live my life feeling so completely worthless? Or will things get better?

Everyone says I'll never know if I kill myself. I think you said that before too. I guess I wouldn't ever know. But then again, what if it just gets worse? What if I just keep going down that slope, and I smash straight through the earth all the way to hell? The stars are forever out of my reach. I realize that now. I can't reach up and grab the heavens all the way from hell.

But lately it's different. You help me feel like I can have some of the stars brightness. You reach up and stretch yourself like a giant. You go to the stars and bring me some back, and we sit in hell together.

At least, I thought so. I thought you understood. You told me you did before, but really, I'm alone. You're just feeding me tiny bits of your light, because you my dear are the sun in my galaxy.