Letters through the dark night

Letter 8

"Sometimes you feel as if this world's not worth living in... but then again... you can't help but notice the many little lights that burst in your life that keep you up at night."

It makes sense I suppose.

To feel that no one can accept you.

To feel that you're alone in this empty world.

To feel that maybe... there's no point in staying if no one will accept you except for you.

All this because you know that all you've been doing is lie to yourself as you try to put on your masks and hope that no one can see how truly vulnerable you are. How weak and fake perhaps... that you probably are.

And you know how ridiculous it is to want to appeal to others, to appear like you are the happiest, the most positive person as you support those around you, those you care about.

All this because you see just how brilliant everyone is and just how much potential they all have you and just... you find it saddening when someone claims that they can't do it. Because it reminds you of just how alike they are to you, except that you keep thinking that they can do things you can't.

But what am I saying?

I suppose I understand how I got here at the end of this lonely road.

I've not had the perfect life.

People have influenced me, and I have changed along with the dark hollow road I've followed.

But I know how lucky I am compared to many others.

And I dislike myself for not appreciating it enough. Not living it to the full potential. Because I just simply can't for some reason.

So frustrated that I can't seem to open myself up, to believe that others will accept me. 

Because all along whenever I try to open up... many times... many times I just hide back in, in my lonely home.

Because I know I don't want to get hurt.

Because I know some people can't handle me.

And I really, just really, want somewhere to belong and if no one can accept me except for me...

But no.

Because I know I've not tried hard enough.

I know there are people out there.

After years of observing, silently thinking, I know that everyone is insecure, just like me. But for some reason I'm still scared.

They all know me, well, those who know me, many know that I'm so put up together in a way.

But then I see those people, hanging out, supportive friends...