Letter to myself: 12th March

Dear Eliza,

I wish I knew what to say to you. I don’t.

You want to give up. Cry Eliza, cry. It’s okay. You know, he’s given you a gift – AH. Hurting you enough that you can cry about it. You let something in, I think he’s the only thing (person in this case) that you’ve ever really let in. I guess maybe that’s why he’s the first thing you’ve cried about in years.

I don’t know Eliza. I don’t know if you did the right thing in letting him in. I don’t know if you did the right thing in trying. I don’t know if it’s worth it to try. You’ll hurt people if you don’t Eliza. You’ll hurt your family. They’ll always feel guilty. They may not actually care if you aren’t here, but they’ll forever feel guilty. Is that guilt something you want to inflict on them? No. But I don’t know if it’s enough. Or if it’s fair. That I should live in order not to hurt them?

Why live?
Well, I guess this is what you created this site for Eliza. To find your reasons to live. What happens when none of those reasons count? What happens when none of it makes a difference? What happens when you know that there is no ‘there’ that is even possible to reach?

Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is another day. I know that no day can ever seem worth it. What’s the point in living in a world when there’s an unbridgeable glass wall between you and the world? What’s the point in living, but not really living? I don’t know Eliza. I don’t know. But tomorrow is a new day. I know it all hurts so damn much. And I know that what hurts most is that somehow there’s still a distance from that.

I love you Eliza. Just go shower, watch some movies, maybe colour, maybe sleep if you’re lucky, and tomorrow is a new day. You never know what will be. And no, you probably shouldn’t bother giving relationships a go anymore. They aren’t worth it.

Supposedly everyone needs people. Well, you don’t. It’s not really a point trying to reach out when you just push everyone away. I love you Eliza. It’s okay to cry. I’m glad you can cry.

When the pieces have been broken and lost, you can rebuild from scratch. You don’t need to find the pieces of your life. You can find new pieces. Maybe.

You won’t lose anything by trying. Just being hurt more. But you won’t actually lose anything. By giving up however, you’ll never know. Maybe that not knowing is worth it. Maybe it’s not, too. Maybe it’s not worth giving up without trying. I know you’ve tried. I know you’ve giving it, life, the world, your all. I don’t even know what you can do differently. I don’t see what you can do differently. Like, wait for a miraculous change that isn’t going to happen? I don’t know Eliza. But, hang on, for this too shall pass.

You’re worth it.


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