I bet 16 years is long enough to hold on to a grudge. But even if
I've let it go, I still hate you for what you did. And no matter how
much I love you I will never forgive you.
My life has been fractured since you died. Its like looking into a mirror but you can't see anything clearly because the sheets of glass are cracked. Everything is distorted. I've grown used to looking into the mirror with this twisted point of view. My heart has healed but part of it remains hollow. That's where you belong but these days I can barely remember you. I'm not sure what your voice sounded like. I have to look at a picture to remember what you look like sometimes. Its getting harder to keep your memory alive.
I used to have these fantasies that you weren't really dead. That you were in witness protection, in hiding. And that one day you'd come home to us. It wasn't the pain that made me long for these dreams to come true. I suppose it was the slow loss of my sanity. After you died I was pushed out on to the edge. For years I stood there, always tempted to cross over. I spent years in anger, anything anyone said could set me off. When the anger subsided I was just depressed. I stopped sleeping, I stopped being who I used to be. And home changed too.
Sister was always gone away with her friends. Mom always worked and when she was home I was still alone. No one saw that I was only existing. That I wasn't really living my life like I should have been. I mastered, at a very early age, how to lie properly, so no one knew. And no one cared to look deeper. Everyone else was too concerned with what was happening in their lives that they didn't see me on the verge of losing.
I was 16 when I starting cutting. I couldn't take this existence anymore. I was always alone. I couldn't bother myself to go to my friends, they couldn't honestly understand how I felt inside. I didn't want their pity or remorse. I just wanted my family to heal together but I was alone. No sister and no mother, both still alive just never around. I know they had their own suffering to deal with, I understand that. What I don't understand is how they could ignore mine because if they were hurting then I was too so how couldn't they see that? So I hurt myself and I tried to take my life.
And that is why I hate you. You took my entire family away from me when you took your life. I will never forgive you for what you did. And how could I? There are some pains that never stop hurting. There are some wrongs that can never be made right. And sometimes, when a life is this broken, its not about fixing it. Its about learning to live with the broken pieces.
-S
My life has been fractured since you died. Its like looking into a mirror but you can't see anything clearly because the sheets of glass are cracked. Everything is distorted. I've grown used to looking into the mirror with this twisted point of view. My heart has healed but part of it remains hollow. That's where you belong but these days I can barely remember you. I'm not sure what your voice sounded like. I have to look at a picture to remember what you look like sometimes. Its getting harder to keep your memory alive.
I used to have these fantasies that you weren't really dead. That you were in witness protection, in hiding. And that one day you'd come home to us. It wasn't the pain that made me long for these dreams to come true. I suppose it was the slow loss of my sanity. After you died I was pushed out on to the edge. For years I stood there, always tempted to cross over. I spent years in anger, anything anyone said could set me off. When the anger subsided I was just depressed. I stopped sleeping, I stopped being who I used to be. And home changed too.
Sister was always gone away with her friends. Mom always worked and when she was home I was still alone. No one saw that I was only existing. That I wasn't really living my life like I should have been. I mastered, at a very early age, how to lie properly, so no one knew. And no one cared to look deeper. Everyone else was too concerned with what was happening in their lives that they didn't see me on the verge of losing.
I was 16 when I starting cutting. I couldn't take this existence anymore. I was always alone. I couldn't bother myself to go to my friends, they couldn't honestly understand how I felt inside. I didn't want their pity or remorse. I just wanted my family to heal together but I was alone. No sister and no mother, both still alive just never around. I know they had their own suffering to deal with, I understand that. What I don't understand is how they could ignore mine because if they were hurting then I was too so how couldn't they see that? So I hurt myself and I tried to take my life.
And that is why I hate you. You took my entire family away from me when you took your life. I will never forgive you for what you did. And how could I? There are some pains that never stop hurting. There are some wrongs that can never be made right. And sometimes, when a life is this broken, its not about fixing it. Its about learning to live with the broken pieces.
-S
