If friend groups and cliques played a major role in anything, school definitely takes most of the blame. Because when you get down to the truth, people are awful.

We are just, the worst. So don't go trying to chase a utopia where we all do good by each other, because we can't. We don't ever take the route we would actually prefer in life.

Why is that? I don't know.

Like I said, people are awful. and there really is nothing you can do about it.

Okay, you what saves my soul? Laughter.
Because even when I know somebody isn't talking to me, their laughter still exists. Hear joy and knowing that someone is okay, words aside.

And for me, that will never be enough to satisfy my loneliness. But it has to be. For their sake.
And for some reason, I still hold out hope. The slightest bit of optimism. Why? Maybe because I can see it when eye contact is made for barely 5 seconds.

I can feel us wanting to fix everything. But for some reason... we don't?

And maybe we never will. And that will never be okay but it has to be. It doesn't make sense, it never will. And that's just my life. But I don't want this all to seem like a bad dream. Because I'll just look back with regret.

And I can't live like that.

It would kill me to do so.

Got into my car and broke down crying today. While other cars just pass by.

History.

Never really the highlight of my day. But always a stand out part of my day. Always structured the same way, never changed, but not boring. It's the kind of repetition you get used to, and for me, sometimes I'm thankful for it.

Hell, something has to stay the same. And with everything that's happened, I'm glad some things never change.

Or some people.

Dear God, nothing ever does come easy. And nothing ever will from here on out. So I'll just give in to my fate. Changing everything. Or nothing at all.

You know some looks could definitely kill. I don't have that gut to just be inherently evil. Although I seem to be that anyway. I don't have the strength to look over my shoulder. I have too much shame in that.

It's like a tell, there is no breaking it. And it sucks. The voice is enough to throw me off.

I cannot shake this. It's just one event right? One semi-life-changing problem that took its toll on everyone involved.

What have I done? What can I do now?

Is there such a thing as starting over? No. Not really.
Because unless we all induce amnesia on what happened, we do not forget what happened. We still hate each other. And the pride that comes along with that is nothing short of destructive.

If you're right, you're right. And if you're right, I have to be wrong.
And I am. I'm mature enough to acknowledge and wear my shame like my checkered shirts.

There is no such thing as a happy ending. We make mistakes, people don't forgive, we die, we fail, we do everything to deny out failure. And if we don't... then we carry our shame with the entirety of our shoulders.

The realization is setting in. Time to walk.

If the name fits, then fine.

But if it doesn't, then what more can you really do?

As for me?

I named my sadness after I realized I've have it for so long I might as well name it.

So I named it "Hello."

No wonder I'm so bad at starting conversations.

I realized my happiness comes and goes so often that I might as well just say...

Goodbye.

And the name sticks.
At least until someone comes up to me with a "Hello" of their own.

And I will only say "Goodbye" when I know they're happy without my "Hello".

Hello. Goodbye.

When walking through a gravesite, you forget that several feet under lies the body of a person you may or may not know.

I have a surname and plot number...

This could have been my family.

Maybe it is.
Maybe it was.

I don't feel worthy enough to sit in the grass before the tombstones.

To place my hands on the stones... they're so cold.

I've read the inscriptions.

Never forgotten by wife and son.
Faithful unto death, may he rest in peace.
A soldier of the great war.
Known unto God

Known unto God

Known unto God.

I have a surname and a plot number written in roman numerals, somebody tell me where I can find the plot under the number 30.

I ran through the gravesite only to find 29.

And I ran out of time.

So tell me where I can find him.

After all... an unknown family wrapped in a common surname is all I really know.

I never found it.

I've been watching too many episodes of "Being Erica" in my spare time. So maybe I should write my regrets out on paper. My biggest regret?

February - April Era.

Why? Well I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say I made a series of mistakes and the consequences came just as quickly as the mistakes were made.

And I know this isn't a TV show, so I know there is no taking back what happened. There are no do-overs. I could create a list of regrets, but that seems like it wouldn't help anybody.

So just for future reference, if we are going to work together, you're going to need to invest in a good punching bag. Trust me, it'll come in handy. I mean, I get mad and when push comes to shove, it's either gonna be you or the punching bag. And I think you might want to keep your body in tact.

Anyways, I guess since we're going to be spending these sessions together, you might as well get to know me. Most of my life is driven by 2 things:

Music and my friends.

And so far... one of those categories is slowly going. It's the whole reason I'm in therapy right now. I need your help.

My life is off the rails and maybe I am making too much of a big deal of this. So teach me how to live life on a restart. How to live... alone?

Or just... how to live at all.

So let's just get started shall we? I'll just write away this therapy like I did months ago. And honestly, this coming week will be hell on earth. But I'm willing to take it. Maybe I will just cry about it.

Maybe I won't.

Just listen in and start the session.

I wrote the date at the top of the page.

And nothing else.

I flew into this day from the second flight and stayed up the entire day.

And yet...

I wrote nothing.

Blank pages right?

It’s hard to believe that something shining so bright could be so far away from where we are. To think that something like the moon or the stars seems closer to us than it is. And we’ve been there, we’ve been to the moon. Isn’t that amazing? And yet we still look up at the dark night sky…

Looking for something...

What that is, I don’t know. But I guess you see something in that sky right? Whether or not you’re searching for something up there is up to you.

But hey, that sky looks amazing doesn’t it?

So maybe you’ve got a wish to throw up there along with the other shooting stars. And I wish you the best of luck with that.

So keep stargazing if you must, maybe a shooting star will appear for you. I hope it does. And hey, maybe something will happen up there, you just have to keep watching to find out. Thanks for finding my letter.

~Letter Writer

I haven't seen the stars for the longest time. Not even in Paris...

So you wear a watch right? Me too. Time is a resource that we forget we have. We always wish we had more of it. So we keep track of it all the time. With our phones and alarms and our watches. We keep time close to us to that we don’t lose it. We always try to manage time to make the most of our lives.

And yet sooner or later, we run out of time and our watches don’t seem to matter anymore.

Some of us manage our time too much, and we forget to live. And some of us waste time, and some of us want to forget time. But whether we acknowledge time or not, it’s always there.

And you know that right?

Your watch will prove that much. So my advice to you, is to remember that time exists and to take advantage of what you’ve got right now. Whether it be an hour, or 5 minutes, just take some time to live by you, and not by time. Don’t wait, because time won’t wait for you. Thanks for finding my letter.

~Letter Writer

I have the marks on my wrist from wearing my watch too tight. For fear of losing my place in time.

Do you skip stairs? I do it all the time. It’s like a pattern I’ve done since I was little, skipping every other stair. But enough about me.

You’re going somewhere, and to get there you had to go up these stairs. It can be annoying and tiring sometimes, but you do it anyway. Because you’ve got somewhere to be, and this staircase is just a small incline, a small effort to get there. Now don’t get me wrong, elevators are nice too, but you don’t have to do anything but push buttons to get somewhere.

So staircases make you work a bit harder, so what? Why do I care? Well, it reminds me of being able to do simple things, and how we go about our days as if we were made to scale mountains or jump out of airplanes.

And we remember that the small stuff, like climbing stairs, is still something we do because we can. And we forget that a lot of the time. So don’t forget, no matter how many stairs you’ve got to climb, you’re still going up. Thanks for finding my letter.

~Letter Writer

Always take the stairs. Never the elevators.

Hey, I’m sure we all procrastinate at least some of the time. We all have something we should do, and then the things we want to do. And yet we choose easy over practical. Maybe because we’d rather listen to ourselves over others and that’s not a bad thing. But we forget that we aren’t the only ones living life.

So maybe we should stop wasting time and do something meaningful again. And sure, maybe the reason why you’re procrastinating is because you’re bored and I get that. But hey, it’s up to you what happens next. You could ignore me and this letter wouldn’t matter, and that’s okay. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings. Just don’t forget that you don’t have to stay in one spot forever. Take a walk or strike up a conversation, write a letter.

It might not be for you, but it helped me. So there, I’ve said my piece, now you decide what to do from here. I’ll just wait here. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere just yet. Thanks for finding my letter.

~Letter Writer

I can say with absolute certainty, that if I saw this letter sitting around, I would pick it up. I could've used something like this a year ago.
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