This is a letter to you….
You know who you are.
Three years… Three ******* years of my life…. That is what I gave you. That is what you stole from me. I’ll never get those three years back…
And honestly, you didnt deserve five ******* ******* seconds of my time…
I should not have wasted my time on you. You are simply not worth dirt…
When I saw your face at the market that day, I should have walked the other way… Not knowing you would give me three ******* years of abuse, Mental, physical AND emotional… And not to mention countless breakdowns, panic attacks and endless tears that you caused me even after you left
You leaving me ended up being the best thing you could have done… Because then, I allowed myself to heal, I allowed myself the grace of knowing it was not my fault.
You made me think that I was not good enough for you? HA… *****, you were not good enough for ME… At the end of the day, you lost possibly the most amazing man you could have had. So, jokes on you! Someone else will come along and know my worth. They will fight to keep me…
YOU never did.
Whatever it is you are doing with your pitiful life now, I hope karma finds and destroys you…
They say live life with no regrets... Well, I regret YOU....
While he is running through your mind,
You are constantly on mine.
Travelling through my thoughts, stuck in my head.
And I can’t get you out, but secretly, I don’t want to…
Because that’s the only place I can still belong to you.
I can still be yours. And our future can still exist.
Deep in the chaos of my mind.
I miss the place in time where I belonged to you.
You are hurting. I can tell…
I can see it in the fact that your eyes do not sparkle as bright.
Your eyes are looking out at the world, but it feels like you are seeing in black and grey.
As if a foggy haze surrounds you.
I can hear it in your voice, that doesn’t sing to your passions to the world.
Your once boisterous, carefree and cheerful voice now sounds small, sorrowful and defeated.
I can tell by the way your head hangs low, the feeling of defeat looms over you.
I can tell, by the way that your heart feels like it has been crushed.
It feels like it is beating at half speed. It feels like it’s beating for nothing.
Well, you are allowed to hurt. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to fall to your knees and fall apart.’
You are allowed to feel down and out, just allow yourself the grace and love you put out to those around you.
Be gentle on yourself. You are hurting. You are allowed to.
A letter to myself, during a time where I hurt the most.
I feel numb, hollow, cold… and I hate this feeling.
I don’t know who I am right now, I don’t feel like me.
I feel chills echoing through my core, a thick fog plaguing my mind.
I feel lost. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what I am doing.
I feel like somewhere along the way, I fell off the map, and ended up in the middle of nowhere.
I am scared.
I am lost
I am holding on to hope.
I will be found.
But not by anyone else.
I will find myself.
A little excerpt from the state of my mind in the last few weeks. I am holding on to hope, and not giving up.
I love you, please stay.
I am as broken as they come, my shattered pieces scattered all over.
My mind tells me lies that I sometimes believe. I am not good enough, I am too much.
When my mind screams these lies at me, they are all I hear, and I begin to believe them.
Though I am still trying to piece myself back together, some days I may fail.
I won’t be strong. I will fall apart.
There will be days, I look to you for aid.
I love you, please stay.
On the days my broken parts show,
I need you, please don’t leave.
As you lay your head down tonight and drift off to sleep, I hope for a few things for you.
I hope that your mind is calm, still and that your thoughts are light and fluffy.
I know the days aren't always easy on you, and that you fight your battles every day.
I hope you do not have to fight as you rest.
I hope that you sleep softly, dream sweetly and recharge, ready to face whatever comes your way.
Sometimes, writing is my way out.
It is a way to get the thoughts that are swimming deep within my mind out into the world when I have no voice.
These words that I messily scribble down, or carefully type out, ensuring to check for any errors I make, come from the deepest, and sometimes darkest areas of my mind, heart and soul…
And these are things I do not think I would be able to tell someone out loud, for hearing the words out loud would be too much.
These small marks, on this blank sheet, come from my depths, and I hope they reach your soul.