(A reply to Stanford **** victim's letter)
I have never been sure of anything in my life until I came across your letter. It was one of those moments where I needed to find a safety net, as I am completely falling apart and my self-esteem, sinking hard like the Titanic. For the longest time I have been a warrior - fighting self-made battles that I ironically lose everytime.
It wasn't easy, good God, it never was, at the slightest- easy. Trapped inside a hollow body with nothing but hate did it for me. I recall countless times of drowning myself with worry that I can never be good enough. Not good enough, pretty enough, intelligent enough, worthy enough. Enough. I was never equal to that word. I wish I was almost enough, but reality bites and it bites hard so I'm always left with nasty and painful bite marks. My tears and sobs are now lullabies to my ears as it helps me put myself to sleep. It wasn't always like this though, I've had my share of sunshine but in the end, and like most things, my happiness reaches its finish line way quicker that I would've wanted.
My life is a daily routine I no longer want to be a part of. Even if I no longer want this - something is telling me I shouldn't quit. For ****'s sake, I'm a warrior, it would be a disgrace to quit. So I held on. For how long? I don't remember, but I did and I still am. The day I read your letter started out like most days - empty. I thought it was going to be another one of those **** related articles, but I was wrong. And I've never been so happy that I was wrong. Each word you wrote were like swords cutting through the chains I made for myself. It was freeing to read about something so tragic yet peaceful at the same time. It was as if your letter was a *** of gold found at hell. It was the rose among all the thorns. A treat amidst all the nasty. As I finished reading I realized something: you are right, I am a boat. A boat you guided with your light. Thank you for shining. It doesn't matter how bright your light was as long as it shone, and found me. In turn, I will one day be a lighthouse, guiding boats toward a safer shore.