Dachaigh #8: A letter.

“I’m always here if you need to talk” is a phrase I’ve heard a fair bit over the last few days; I suppose if I was on the opposite end of things that would be my response too. What are you supposed to say, is there a right response? But I know that I don’t need to talk anymore. What I really need is for things to change. I don’t want to believe that this is it, that all there is for me is loneliness, fear and hurt. But I’m 18 now and I’ve almost run out of hope; I’m not sure how much longer I can bare it all.

Pain is exhausting. It’s said that humans go to much greater lengths to avoid pain than they do to gain pleasure. And I feel that; I feel that so fucking hard right now.

I’m not asking for great, or even good, I’m just asking for okay. I’m not expecting dramatic change for the better, I just want the constant downward spiral to cease. I’m not searching for love - I just someone to look me in the eyes and listen. I don’t need them to understand, I just need them to hear me.

I feel like I’m slipping away so quietly, nobody there to witness what’s being lost. Was there anything there in the first place? If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, did it make a sound? Is my experience valid if I live it alone? Was I ever here?

I’ve grown so sick and tired of the knife that’s been lodged in my side for such a large portion of my life. Over the years it’s been turnt and twisted by various people and situations. I’ve fallen so many times I’ve lost count, and each time the ground I land on pushes it deeper within. Time has coaxed my skin to heal around the the base of the handle, and the blade itself has become part of me. When I grew, I grew around it. I have no clue as to go about removing it, at this point.

I’m tired of having to fight for every little thing that seems to come so easily to everyone else. I don’t have a home, I’ve forgotten what that word means. I thought I knew at one point, but perhaps I was naive - or just young. Home is belonging - a common thread running between one human and the others around them. I find it so hard to see myself in anyone else, wherever I go I feel like an outsider.

I don’t have anyone who genuinely loves me. My friends say that they do, but I don’t see who that lie helps. If they feel any sort of affection or fondness towards me, it’s definitely not love - I hate how watered down that word has become. Love is an action - and a mutual one at that. What could I ever offer anyone?

I have no purpose, nothing to ground me. With no safety net beneath me, I’ve remained in the same freefall for years; gaining

momentum by the second, and yet going absolutely nowhere. I used to fear the moment I’ll eventually hit the ground, but not anymore. At least it’s a certainty - something sure I can count on.