Sometimes I think that God created me with the incapability to speak. Or at least that’s what it seems like. Everytime my friends need my opinion I am able to, but every time I need my own voice it’s as if I never had one. Sometimes I like to imagine myself in a different life, where everything was easy, but then I think that maybe I am the way I am for a reason. Only God knows the answer to that and I cannot question that (even when sometimes I do).
Sometimes I like to think that I can be the kind of person that everyone loves, but even then I get my hopes up too high. I’m not sure whether to believe it or not. All my friends tell me that you have me to talk to when you need someone to listen to you or I’ll always be here for you when you need me. I’d like to believe it but I think they just say that because they want to make me feel better. I hate that part of me, the part that can never take a person’s good intentions seriously except when there aren’t truly heartfelt. I hate that I trust people too easily, because in the end that’s how I always get my feelings hurt, then I close up around others. I hate it but it’s me. God says that you must love every part of you, even the parts you hate. I wish I could go through with that but there are too many parts of me I hate that there aren’t any left to love.
In middle school I only had one friend, a friend I could tell everything to because she always listened and she knew how to handle it because she’s been through it. She was one of the greatest friends I ever had, and even then it felt like a chain was wrapped around my throat, preventing me from telling her the truth. Maybe it felt like that because I felt I was drowning her in my problems. I promised myself to would never do that to anyone else. Then I had to go to high school. I met lots of old friends and even made some new ones. Now, I have a best friend who I never want to lose. She is amazing and loving and kind. She can match my crazy habits and she listens to what I have to say, or at least what I tell her.
I keep my promises, well I try to keep all my promises. I’ve made a lot of promises to myself that I’m sure will come true. 1) I won’t tell anyone how I really feel; instead tell them I’m fine. 2) Never let anyone see my true colors. 3) I won’t make it through high school. You’re probably wondering about my third promise, well, I made that before I entered high school, before I graduated from middle school. I always imagined that “picture perfect life” but I started looking at the missing moments. Four years of my life was missing. College was there, so was my dream job, my husband, and my family, even old age. Get the picture yet? If you don’t, don’t worry, for years I didn’t either. High school. Four years of my life right in front of me was missing. My next chapter was nonexistent. I never knew why. I tried to imagine what it would be like but the same picture kept coming up. Even when I tried to change it, it was still there. I would never graduate, I would get a job, I would never have a family, and I would never make it to old age because I would never be alive to see that day. Every night I cried and I tried to shake off the feeling that this would be true. Nothing worked, death was the only image I ever saw. No matter how hard I tried to live the happy life I always wanted, death was always around the corner.
Now I understand what you’re thinking, there are many people out there who have worse lives than you and they don’t think that death is there only option. I understand where that would come from, I thought that too. But the one thing that always proved my point was that I wasn’t strong. I’m not strong. I can’t fight back or stand up for myself, especially when it comes to my innocence. Often I’m blamed for things that aren’t my fault just so the person who’s really at fault doesn’t get into trouble. It happens a lot more often than not, but I don’t ever say anything. I can’t. My voice won’t let me, there is always something holding me back but I never know what. Oh well, it doesn’t matter, it isn’t like talking will help anyway.
Perhaps it’s just me but, do you ever feel like you are the world’s only burden? Like your existence is a mistake? Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s what I feel everyday. Like maybe the world would be better off without me or maybe the world will be a better place without me alive. Maybe this is true and maybe it isn’t. I’m not sure but that’s what it feels like. All my friends tell me it isn’t true, that they all love me but you know I never hear that from my family. Probably because I never tell them, I don’t like telling anybody because I feel like that will be another problem to their list of them. My family sometimes shows that I’m a burden but I’m never sure how my friends truly feel.
Well, I hope you learned something about me. I am weak, there is no doubt. I have no voice so to speak it pointless. I really am sorry for those of you who you deem have a harder life than me. I am a listener and I will always listen to what you have to say. One thing I will tell you is, “Never let the wind call you out and never be silenced.”
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