Life -noun-
↪the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity and continual change preceding death.
But in other words, it can be a journey crafted for us...
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💫Eighth Pleasure 💫
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Everything.
It's all possible.
Reality.
People.
You.
Just imagine it.
I entered the final door of all three. Right now I needed to wait and see. What was the next surprise waiting for me?
So, in general, what did I gain? I got a personal retrospective of my life.
It was interesting, I got reminded of things I thought I lost track of. This is the final look through. With a gentle shove of the big white wooden door, I entered in.
Unlike the other doors, at first I was confused, as I didn't see anything.
Pitch black. Empty.
Shooting my head in different directions, I thought to myself why I couldn't get any sign of life or memory at all. I remembered the moment after, the realization hit upon me.
Ughhh...
It is the present. Right now. A time when everything was becoming too impossible for me. These were the times when I actually doubted myself. I started feeling incapable, sadder, more depressed, getting overwhelmed more times, cried more, and genuinely fell in despair.
It was because I had problems. It was the times when I discovered my friends' true colors. I went past their 'I'm fine' façade and saw into their problems. I felt terrified at first. They hid a lot, even from me. I thought, I was their close friend, who would be there for all of them even in the darkest times.
Feeling stupid, as I every day just watched them as usual. Not a single thought ever crossed my mind that they were suffering. My friends weren't just hiding problems, they also hid cuts.
Scars, wounds, bruises, cuts that they hid behind their sweater paws, which I thought were cute or behind a thick pair of long black winter pants, which I thought they wanted to be warm. But it was all to hide their pain.
Meanwhile, they still continued smiling at me, like nothing ever happened like those cuts were a part of them now. They said it didn't even matter and it was all a part of them.
It's just not right.
I haven't been close enough to them, to understand what they were going through. When I asked them, they told me they had to, because of their past. An intoxicating past, which had been unbearable to them. Guilt was washing me over, burning my insides.
No...it can't really happen now, could it?
Our past also involved me, we were tight as ever, glued to the hip how come it was that bad??? The photos if we as kids smiling happily always seemed so real to me. But who knows even those smiles were fake. Although I had some pretty bad moments myself, I didn't give up, because I thought of us, our friendship.
If my friends were smiling, then I would smile too. Happiness, our happiness was contagious. The same thing was for sadness. I continued being happy, so we could all be the way we were...crazy, confident, carefree, and childish.
Yet, it wasn't enough.
I never did anything, to help them and they were hurt so badly. And now I felt hurt with them too. Tears would stream my face but did nothing. They could never heal them.
It was too late.
These thoughts at night were the things feeding my insomnia to stay awake in the dark. Right now I was trapped in their reality too. I would only think of the moments when it all went wrong. Why I couldn't be for them? In my group of friends now and then I always thought, I was a bad friend, as I didn't stay close enough to them.
I've been lying to myself all this time, I was indeed that bad friend. Paranoia was hammering in my mind like crazily, thinking about what they were doing.
How were their nights like?
Sometimes I would watch the sharp objects in my house attentively. The silvering blade caught my eye, the sun rays hitting its curves and sharp teeth. Eyes filled with emptiness, as my hands out of reflex would reach for it and take it in my hand.
Then I would see my wrists and thighs and I would click everything into place. I'd attempt to do it. I thought I needed to suffer like them. Because I deserved it.
Don't we all need to at some point?
At the next moment, I'd feel a burn so intense to my skin, as someone is already slicing a knife deeply in my veins. Flinching because of the pain I dropped everything in my hand, locking them away and just lying down my bed.
I continued crying again. I felt guilty, but I couldn't do it. It seemed too extreme.
Too surreal. It felt like almost dying.
I could only cry though and not do it. So, every day now I try to do what I should have done. I talked to them. I warned them. I advised them. Trying to keep them close. Knocking sense into them. Checking them for more scars.
Anything to help.
Anything to turn time back behind.
Anything to repent my mistakes.
Anything to maybe saving them.
I'll still and always try to help them. I might not understand well how huge was their pain, for them to make such a critical decision. However, I have an open mind that you should always help those whose reality seems too suffocating. Try to demask their façade, they need help.
Lend them a hand and keep them close and try being there for them. As for you, who seems to not understand what has happened, breathe deeply.
