I am a coward. I am scared of the truth. I am scared to write because the truth comes out. I am scared to die, because I do not want to forget to say goodbye to someone and destroy the rest of their life. I do not want to be selfish. I want to be strong enough to live, but whenever I gain strength, I always end up thinking that this time: I will be strong enough to die. This limbo of not knowing what takes more courage is painful. I want the pain to end. I try. I fight. I am strong. Why did no one tell me how to do it? Why did no one teach me? I feel so unequipped for this life.
I become so haunted all the time. Mistakes, regrets, what ifs….why do we do it to ourselves? Why can I not stop seeing the faces, the moments that cause nothing but pain? Why does it still hurt? Why do I want to stop so badly that I really would give up? What is this pathetic existence? It is not a life. I can tell you that. I am not living anymore. I am merely existing. I want to scream so loud for someone to come and save me, but no one is coming. I know that I am the only one to save myself. If I was not such a coward, maybe I could do it.
This pain is completely horrendous. Fighting everyday is exhausting. Faking that smile and pretending that you just got a bad night’s sleep when in reality you spent the night reliving every hurt over and over until you truly wished you ceased to existence. Then having to fight that feeling, whilst staring at yourself wondering how you got here, wondering how it all went so wrong. That is where I struggle. I tell myself, hold on for them. For the ones it will hurt, because no one should have this pain. Why can I not hold on for me? Why have I become so worthless, so unimportant, so meaningless that I feel I have nothing left but other people? How did this happen? I need to undo it….but where do I start?