All I really wanted to say in this blog is:
I'm not heartless. I do love people.
Two people.
The constants.
My Best Friend.
Possibly the only person who understands... Who even sees... The hurricane that I've become over this year. The only person who has always been able to hear me, even when I was not speaking to you. A sweet, sisterly connection was created between us this year. In the small moments that you've comforted me recently, I've felt a short moment of peace, a moment where I'm not scared or lonely or angry or betrayed; all negative emotions vanish and are replaced with a sense of healing and unity. It lasts only a moment, but the impression it's made on my mind is so significant. It's allowed me to explore and create a prolonged feeling of safety.
I don't know if you saw me, how I was or how abused I was before I had that feeling, but I have tended to the ugliest of wounds for a very long time, and for the first time, I feel as if someone is finally helping me.
If you ever fall from grace as I have, I hope to help you rise from the ashes of the dead, as you've helped me.
No amount of thank yous can truly place my gratitude.
You.
You believed in me, when no one else did.
Everyone thought I was dead. I wasn't dead and you knew that. So you pumped life into me for as long as you could without killing yourself.
Your mental state of mind was at stake, and you continued to pump life back into my heart. You did everything you could to revive me, after I killed myself in 2007.
You believed in me. You, you who had nothing to gain from my existence, risked your own life to assure mine is reinstated.
And it was.
You aren't here anymore, but I couldn't expect you to be after what you've done for me. Eventually they got to you, like I knew they would. And you left. Of course you left.
But you turned around when I called your name, though it was distorted. And you cleaned the lashes on my back, though I often hurt you for touching them. And you nursed me as I sunk in and out of comatose, and you sat there, watching me, patiently waiting for each wound to heal.
Because you believed in me. You always believed in me.
You knew, one day, I would be something magnificent. You wanted that for me.
You believed in me.
Now it's my turn to believe in You.
I'm not heartless. I do love people.
Two people.
The constants.
My Best Friend.
Possibly the only person who understands... Who even sees... The hurricane that I've become over this year. The only person who has always been able to hear me, even when I was not speaking to you. A sweet, sisterly connection was created between us this year. In the small moments that you've comforted me recently, I've felt a short moment of peace, a moment where I'm not scared or lonely or angry or betrayed; all negative emotions vanish and are replaced with a sense of healing and unity. It lasts only a moment, but the impression it's made on my mind is so significant. It's allowed me to explore and create a prolonged feeling of safety.
I don't know if you saw me, how I was or how abused I was before I had that feeling, but I have tended to the ugliest of wounds for a very long time, and for the first time, I feel as if someone is finally helping me.
If you ever fall from grace as I have, I hope to help you rise from the ashes of the dead, as you've helped me.
No amount of thank yous can truly place my gratitude.
You.
You believed in me, when no one else did.
Everyone thought I was dead. I wasn't dead and you knew that. So you pumped life into me for as long as you could without killing yourself.
Your mental state of mind was at stake, and you continued to pump life back into my heart. You did everything you could to revive me, after I killed myself in 2007.
You believed in me. You, you who had nothing to gain from my existence, risked your own life to assure mine is reinstated.
And it was.
You aren't here anymore, but I couldn't expect you to be after what you've done for me. Eventually they got to you, like I knew they would. And you left. Of course you left.
But you turned around when I called your name, though it was distorted. And you cleaned the lashes on my back, though I often hurt you for touching them. And you nursed me as I sunk in and out of comatose, and you sat there, watching me, patiently waiting for each wound to heal.
Because you believed in me. You always believed in me.
You knew, one day, I would be something magnificent. You wanted that for me.
You believed in me.
Now it's my turn to believe in You.
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