Feelings On Paper

Today I write about you: A [forgotten] Essay

Today I write about you.

But it seems I do most days.

Truth is, today I thought about it.

I have an assignment I have to read ten pages about due tomorrow and I somehow can't seem to even open the passage tonight.

I'm tired and unmotivated.

That's not right.

I'm exhausted.

Terrified of everything and nothing at the same time. I'm scared that I won't do well in school. I'm scared my talent is going to waste. I'm scared my job will kill me. I'm scared that I'll lose you. I'm scared that I'll lose myself. I'm scared I'll fail to balance everything.

In those moments, I think that nothing matters and that I shouldn't care. That life itself has no meaning and I am meant to suffer like this.

At those thoughts, I hate myself. Because I know better and I should just try my hardest to live and succeed.

I no longer have passion for anything and scarily enough, my passion for you is doubted every so often. Sure, although the colors are vibrant with you, everything is grey without your presence. People are blurred—like an asian porno but it's just their faces. Their voices are static and not even important information is worth being annoyed for.

Judgement fills my every thought, whether it is to the fat lady that just changed lanes too slowly in front of me or the point of my ribs mocking me in the reflection.

I'm angry at almost everything and my frustration is thicker than my patience. Cussing doesn't help and yelling on the road just makes me angrier.

I'm sad most nights without you as my thoughts overwhelm the noise of my computer I try to use as filler. I think too much even when I've purposely turned up the music to interrupt those very thoughts. That's probably what's causing all my headaches.

No, actually. It's the fact that I don't eat at work or school because I'm too scared of spending my money because I may need it for an emergency—despite the fact that I have 800 dollars in my savings and only one bill to pay a month. I'm too lazy to get up, even my stomach is so hungry that it starts to eat itself and it hurts me.

My tics are getting worse, my stuttering is worse, my eye bags are worse, my sleeping is worse, my anxiety is worse, my self worth is just... well, worse.

I feel like I've hit rock bottom.

No, rock bottom was trying to drown myself on a pool and having to cough up water alone.

Rock bottom was acting as if nothing was wrong by building a brick wall around me until I only let those that would benefit me in.

Rock bottom was dating because I was bored and somehow getting my heart broken each time.

Rock bottom was starting each year with the intention of not ending it.

Rock bottom was giving up on love or hope.

I often forget that I'm actually almost at the top of this rock climbing course.

I forget that each rock I've hit was just a step towards the top.

I forget that although it seems like I'm alone, I know better and that I'm not, and even if I was, it would be okay.

You showed me what being loved was really about. Not gifts or simple compliments or dates or even sex. It was the thought of each gift, the meaning in each word of praise, each adventure and it's journey, and the way a simple touch can have so much love in it.

It showed me to love myself and I often forget that.

That is why today I write to you. To be honest.

A lot of my smiles are fake, but not when I'm around you.

I am often sad and angry, but you make me forget often times.

A lot of times I do things to numb the pain, but I could never use you that way.

I am broken, but I am trying to pick up the pieces for us. For me.

I've relied on you too much and I'm sorry, it must be exhausting. I know you love and care for me and that I'm not a burden but often times, the worst of me will make me think so.

I am trapped in a vast ocean with no direction and I've decided to stop bleeding and letting the sharks get to me.

I'm done being prey to my own emotions.

Today, I realized I had it so so so good, that if I just took a deep breath, I'd be able to feel happiness more often.

If I'm honest, I'm not sure if I'll keep that promise, but at least I'll try.