When i met you i had no friends, you were late to class and no one would sit at the table i was at except you. Maybe it was because there was no where else to sit. I looked at you and tried to put a name on you. Even now, try as i may, i cant find one that fits you. I tried wallflower, an elusive flame, an insignificant drop of water, the broken heart, all of it and nothing ever fit you right. You showed me what real compassion was. Little artist girl, you showed me what true love was.
I remember how you used to stand with me and make scenarios up that would never actually happen. I saw you hurting and i knew you weren't going to get better,but i tried, and maybe my efforts were all for nothing, or maybe i meant something to you once. Every night i stare up at the same sky and i try to explain it, but its too beautiful to put words on. The deep intimidating black-blue color scattered with stars that faded as it got to the horizon just always getting lighter. I sleep at the wrong end of my headboard and i hope for something better. I know im getting held back. I cant concentrate and none of this amuses me.
Ysabel, you never hated anyone or anything. You never even used the word hate. I showed you what hate truly meant. I made you hate me. Mr. Aktutay, he inspires me to do amazing things. And you, you are the drive, my willpower, my hope for whatever this life is. For it to get better. You were always the one who showed me how to love myself. You told me that happiness was the phase, and that i was sad because i was smart and that i had to potential to do amazing things. Ive heard it from everyone and everything but never had it meant anything from anyone except you. I have never known anyone like you. You will continue to be my burnt french fry. I will continue on, even if you hate me with everything you are, i still love you. Lash out, scream at me, kick me while im already crying on the ground and about to crack, but i will always love you like my sister. You embraced me as Sammy, not as Sydney. You were the most accepting person ive ever met and the only one to make me truly love myself.
I dont listen to music anymore.Every song. Ever lyric and melody, im reminded of the way you used to laugh. The way your eyes were beautiful and ugly, the way you used to kneel down and hug my sides when i wanted so badly to cry because of my idiotic first world problems. You left me unsatisfied.
A hug. Thats all i wanted. Even if this was all my fault, a hug was all i wanted from you. I want so badly to move on from you, but i never will. Ive known you for less than a year and ive fell in and out of love with you, ive shared my true feelings about this wretched world, and ive said goodbye.
Maybe it doesnt get better from here. Maybe one day that dream we both had will come true more or less. So for now, i loath myself. So for now, i wish for something more than myself. Ill teach myself not to be quick to the things that hurt me the most. Ill teach myself what true pain is, and ill listen to music. And ill be a writer because i will learn how to embrace myself. And ill write about you. Youre artistic and insipring and dramatic and shy and small and large and ugly and beautiful and burning and dying and everything. Youre the moon shining in the fear filled night sky. Youre the blazing hot sun that brings hope for a new day. And i will spend my whole life searching for something, anything that can compare to you though i know nothing will come close. Close to my salvation and to my hope for a new beginning. And maybe i will find you in another life. Maybe i will salvage this truth maybe i will be the one tobreathe life into myself. Maybe itll be you.
This is for you, Ysabel.
