[▶] for safekeeping.

dear me.

Inspiration:

As it is said below - this is a letter to the girl I used to be.
Hope you all like it :)
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• a letter to the girl I used to be ○

Dear me.

I am sorry.

I'm so sorry for everything you had to go through.

Honestly, when I think back on all the moments that you and I have had, busting our heads open with thoughts about that one person and overthinking every single interaction, I - I just don't know what to think.

Why did we have to go through all that for that one person? Why did we count on that one person to determine every bit of our worth? Why the hell was it ever worth it to put ourselves through such misery, which obviously never ever held a happy ending in sight?

Why did we so selflessly choose to sacrifice ourselves for that person and play slave to our emotions, like puppets on a string with no mind of their own, simply holding on to the edge of the cliff with our feelings threatening to drag us downwards with the force of wind, and suffocate us by washing over us in the rushing, tumultuous waters below?

A mere youth who had yet to finish out living twenty years on this planet, forced to go through such heartbreak and destruction, having herself torn apart inside and out to complete and utter shreds, like a board of wood loosely hanging on to a dilapidated house in the midst of abandoned woods, about to fall, with claw marks torn through the material and holes forming on its insides.

I've read all the poems, stories, and looked at all the drawings you - no, we've - made for that one person.

And I find it such a sad thing, this poor, poor girl, writing such worthless letters of confession and love, all in a never-ending struggle to keep her sanity by her side, yet slowly losing grip with each and every passing night of pain and every fleeting thought of emotion. I pity us, for having been so enslaved to this pain, this one person, for having been strung along and never having a say of our own. Yet now, I wonder if, had we tried enough, could we have gotten out of it sooner?

However, I don't think that was the case, because every single one of those letters portrayed a helpless, passionate-loving of a girl in pain, struggling to breathe and slowly being broken apart, crack by crack. She was empty, and she had no strength to fight. Love had dragged her far too deep into its amber-maroon depths and had entangled itself round her legs, her arms, her body, her face - and she was lost, numbed, without any way to escape. She was forced to think, force to love so passionately, so widely, that her heart was bursting with so much feeling that could hardly be contained.

And even though those times have long gone, and usually, all our past loves have left us still unable to recall that feeling of having loved someone in secret - I can still, oh so strongly recall, how the pain was strong and menacing and unrelenting, clawing its way through the borders of our heart and ripping every seam from its purpose of safety and protection, for the poor soul hidden inside.

I am so sorry.

I am so sorry for all you had to go through, and I have - I have absolutely no words to say.

The 10 months we spent loving this person - those painstakingly, achingly long 10 months and the one other one we spent getting over them - was such an unbelievable experience, such a dark, yet emotional and beautiful period.

And I can safely say - I never knew we were capable of so, so much passion, till we met them. The impossibilities of the gravity of how strong, how great a magnitude the love we had for them could be, were so miniscule in comparison to our young and raging, wild raving hearts. It was reckless, it was rushed, it was incredible and passionate beyond belief - it was whipping by our faces and we could never catch a moment of breath.