Letters To Us

I'm Sorry to Myself

I wonder if there's anybody really listening to what I'm saying, if there's someone who could save me from myself. I keep writing to you while at the same time I know that is is nothing but an empty conversation with myself. What's the point, if nobody's there to help?

I don't trust easily. Hell, I think I don't really trust anyone. I talk about what happens with me, but I don't really talk about what hurts. I talk to the pen that writes these letters in a way, since I have to send it the message I was to pass on, so the words I form make sense on paper. I feel stupid while writing this, all this, because I know that coping doesn't come with writing, but with talking and opening up. But what if the people I open up to betray my trust, or look at me differently? I'm just scared they'd leave me or think I'm weak.

Someone once told me I was emotionally weak, and that I still had much growth ahead of me, that I still had to evolve. At first that idea didn't fit in with me, and I got very upset, but now I'm gradually accepting the idea that it may be true. Even though being vulnerable scares me a lot, I think I'm ready to face the fact that it's okay not to be okay. However, I find myself realising that I just want to move on from being sad, but it seems that the sadness just doesn't want to leave. Maybe it still has something to teach me, but I keep not wanting to learn. Please, help me.

Why does it hurt so much, being broken? Why is it so hard for me to love myself without constantly looking for approval? I don't know what to do, and nobody wants to listen. I keep trying and trying, but these letters don't seem to be helping with dealing with the loss of me. I keep trying to find salvation, but it keeps running away from me, hiding. Can I cave in now?

I'll be honest... Sadness attacks me most of the times, but loneliness is a never ending feeling that just doesn't leave. I'm petrified at the idea of losing people. I think I got used to it after my dad left, but after you cared for me for so long, you left me, my safe haven, and the rug was pulled right off my feet. From then on, the haunting feeling of loss settled back in. Please, help me.

I lost the will to do things, ones which I do every day. Writing, reading, singing. I'm inside of the hole I put myself in, and I keep trying to get out, but every time I do, I fall back in. What am I missing?

I even asked God to send me anyone, I don't even care who. Just someone who could be there, someone I could work on trusting so then I could not be afraid of crying, kicking and screaming. You were that person, but I lied, I cheated, and I incited a lack of trust from you to me. It was my fault, and I'm sorry. You were slowly collecting my pieces and joining them together, and I just didn't want to listen.

It's okay if you don't want to help me anymore, if you don't want to talk me anymore. I promise I'll be okay.

I'm sorry I hurt you,

Mia