Letters to No One

Letter 3

Dear You,

A midnight letter written as the eerie moon emits a slant of light behind a thin mist through my tinted window. I continue to stare at it, wondering it's metaphorical resonances, connecting everyday life to it's soft glow. I squint my eyes and tilt my head, hoping that the answers may come to me merely by a change in physical position. But damn was I wrong.

Talking about our favorite weather, as we stared outside our windows, thousands of miles away, will forever be my favorite conversation. Laughing as we described the sound of the rain hitting the window - you said that it sounded like an angry beast was pounding against your window, looking for a way in. I remember crying, once the topic of fear came up, making references to our favorite books. My body contorting into utter hysterics as I heard you stifling a sob over the line.

Books - a third world, where we, along with other depressed teenage girls, can live. Putting my shitty life aside, pouring my soul into the pages, marked with permanent ink that will forever change me. Reminiscing about the first time we read "that" book, a sort of innocence, reading a series of words for the first time, making you feel like the world may not just very well be out to get you.

It's raining, just in case you were wondering, a slight drizzle beginning to pour from the dark, ominous clouds. Only making a space for the moon to shine through, a soft glow reflecting off of the clouds. The rain reflecting the salty tears that have begun to slide down my pale face.

Always - a word used to describe an infinite amount of "something", whether love or hatred. A word that is commonly misused, or rather overused, a vast majority of people don't understand that always is an unwritten promise, one that you cannot break. Always is a word that you have never used, not even playfully while we joke around talking of times, and random bull shit we use as a distraction, attempting to find a way to make the excruciatingly loud voices diminish.

I hear the familiarly common ringing of sirens in my hears, making me wonder if they can come and help me, make the pain go away, save me from my innermost thoughts. I can only imagine what my eyes look like, burning from a lack of sleep, yet again. My mind racing with an abundance of thoughts, rendering me lost in my own brain, before my mind is filled with a cloud, not a single coherent thought able to be formed.

I haven't slept for over forty-eight hours, my body slowing deteriorating from the inside out. But, I'm more afraid of what will happen once I close my eyes, and surrender myself to my mysterious mind. I'm afraid of watching bright crimson liquid pour from your wrist, as you relish in the pain, in my worst nightmares. It kills me to watch you hurt yourself, both physically and mentally, constantly putting yourself down, trying so hard to take everyone else's shit, and leave them free.

I am also utterly terrified to talk to those who believe that I am fine, afraid I may slip, or say the wrong thing, and spend ten minutes sending repeated text messages that read similar. A state if paranoia overtaking my weak, crippling body.

I'm sick and tired of excuses, the lies that flow so easily out of people's mouths, make me want to vomit, as if I don't do it enough as it is. I'm fucking done with lies.

I apologize for the lack of any structure in this letter, my mind bouncing from one thought to another. But then again, so is yours.

With much love,

Me, the girl who can't mutter enough courage to close her damn eyes