“How do I get out of this Labyrinth of suffering?”
“Straight and fast.”
“Forgive”

There’s never really an answer.

I met you.
Friends, yeah. That’s how it started out.

But friends… almost never stay “just friends” forever.

Think about it.

Kindergarten. You thought they would be there by your side forever.

Junior High. A giant wake up call. Those people you thought you knew? They aren’t the same.

High School. New people. A new chapter. Okay, great. Make friends. Make promises you can’t keep.

Now.


Things complicated themselves in a way I would have never imagined.

I looked at you the same way I always did.

You were my best friend. You told me things that made me realize that life… it’s not so beautiful. I stayed awake every night. Wondering if you were going to live to see the next day, to see me. Wondering if I would be the last person you told:

“I love you, past Pluto”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
“I promise.”
Or
“I never meant to hurt you.”

Well you did. It was never the kind of physical hurt that left you in agony for only a few hours. No, this was an emotional hurt. The kind that left you scared, worried, anxious. The kind that knew it was all your fault. That knew you were the reason they hated themselves, the reason they wanted to die.

Yeah, that kind of hurt runs deeper.

So I sat there everyday. Not able to focus, not able to think about anyone but you.

And then…


Bam.

You hit me with news that I didn’t know what to do with. So I told. I told her everything. It’s not like I could keep it piled up. I would have drowned. Both mentally, and physically. Yeah, you didn’t realize it. But it was that bad.

Well, it’s not like I told her everything. She figured out most of it.

And after, I felt awful. Like I broke a promise. I’m pretty sure I did, but at least I told someone whom I knew you trusted also. It was a heck of a lot better to have someone to talk to about everything. Someone else that I knew would try her hardest to understand.

See my problem? Of course not. I haven’t told you everything.

The news. Right. How could I forget?

You told me you loved me. Not the “you’re-my-best-friend” type of way, but the “I-want-to-date-you” type of way.

So here’s a question. What do you do when your best friend:

1) Self harms (sometimes because of you)
2) Loves you. Like, really loves you.

My answer: I don’t know.

You think I have all the answers. But I don’t.

I don’t know why you self harm.
I don’t know why you love me.
I don’t know how to make things better.
I don’t know why you’re so upset.
I don’t know what to do.

I love you. I’ve told you that before. But not the way you love me.

“It’s not the same.” You say.

I know it’s not. And I feel worse and worse every day because it’s not the same. I know it hurts you.

I don’t want to hurt you.

There’s my problem.

Back to the labyrinth.

Straight and fast: There’s no way that’s happening. I’d **** both of us in the process. You, because you would never know how much you mean to me. How responsible I feel for you. How much I love you. You would never know.
Me, because I’d **** you. And because of that, I’d have to go.

Forgive: That’s not the answer, in my case. Who do I forgive here? I can’t forgive myself. Because I’m the reason you hate living. I can’t forgive you. You’ve done nothing wrong.

So when asked the question:

“How do I get out of this labyrinth of suffering?”

My answer is simple.

“There is no way out.”