I would be lying if I told you that I am never bothered by the way you perceive the world. As a matter of fact, I am sick and tired of wanting to know what you're like with depression out of the picture. But if I were to repaint and reconstruct every feature of this portrait, I will see things as partial representations. You are incomplete without it. It has come to a point where it defines you completely. I can't even remember the last time you smiled and meant it or the last time you were genuinely happy.  
You've come to master getting used to being ignored, maybe not entirely but you are this book and in comparison to the many others, you are too complicated to be worth their time. They solely focus on other things that do not involve you, so you're left on your own to decipher your passages and you will remain as an enigma to them.
I promised you that by the time you reach this age, you would be too busy worrying about college and other things like if your boyfriend or girlfriend prefers your old hair over your new haircut, or if the girl that you like feels the same way, or if that guy in your class smiled at you because he thought it was finally time to make a move.
And now you've reached that age and you are worrying about college, but not over those other things.
5 years ago you wanted to die, and with each year that passed that desire grew into a shadow that always lingered behind you. Now it overshadows your actions and you're too busy wondering and worrying why no one has held your hand and looked at you the way you wanted someone to.
You're too busy trying to keep your watch from sliding down your wrists, too busy hiding the lines that overlapped on your skin. Sometimes you wonder if it's time to **** what was growing within instead of watching your outsides lessen to thin sheets, and yet you don't want to bother your best friends about things like this.
It's burdening, a load too heavy to lift, so you try practicing by doing all the carrying by yourself. So far you've managed, just a couple of scars and lashes, defined bones, suicidal thoughts and cuts too deep to mend. So far you haven't killed yourself, no, not yet but I hope you keep yourself together until someone sees the potential and beauty that you always thought were absent in you.
I hope one day they fill the spaces of your thoughts with contentment and happiness that you deserve because we are put into this earth to grow old with another.
This is the closest to heaven that you'll get, whether or not you believe that death is what ends a person's existence. It's just a shame to see that you think the life that was given to you is a way of wasting away, that it is a state of mind and everything you feel is not temporary.
I hope you've come to realize that it's okay not to fit in, that surely things will pass and you'll find the hand that fits perfectly. But never pass away too soon and early.
Never give into them, never let them take over, never let them make you do things that can hurt, because death is the only relief I wouldn't want you to have.

n.j.