- Gender and Relationships»
Open Letter To Someone Who Let The Cuts Run Too Deep
Dear someone who let the cuts run to deep:
I bet you probably regret ever telling me about your condition. I bet you didn't think I would try to spend so long saving you but I did. I bet it made you feel good about yourself but it never had the same effect on me. If I could have all the bets in the world I would offer up, you had no idea what seeing the marks on the outside did to me knowing I knew what you felt like on the inside. I bet you never saw the look on my face when you called me after you told me why you did it constantly. I bet a lot of things but that's the catch about bets, they're faulty. They fall through & no amount of money could prepare me for the months we endured.
A year really does change someone. 365 days of continuously caring for you did a lot to me. It always brings me back to the moment when we both turned eighteen & were so naive. It was a spontaneous act to get a matching tattoo to commemorate 1825 days of consecutively being each others go to. "Love yourself" was the basic white girl phrase we chose before it came a popular Justin Bieber song. Nobody knows the real reason why you decided to slab that catchy quote on your wrist in big bold letters, nobody does except for me. No reason seemed logical enough to me because if you had me, why would you feel the need to do it? It became an ongoing argument because I wanted you to quit and you just wanted to feel like you fit. You were hiding something only it was not just your secret to keep anymore. I think it started way before me & gradually grew into something bigger that I alone as person could not handle.
You got my initial "S" marked on your wrist underneath and yours being an "I" on me because like Christina Yang and Meredith Grey from Grey's Anatomy would reference: You were my "person" . We had a sidekick, punching bag, bandage, wing mate & a new years kiss when yours backed out all wrapped in one main aspect: each other.
There was a time shortly before I asked you to move out with me and step out into our new and improved adult lives. It was suppose to be the most fun experience of our days, only you got into college and I did not. That is when it started being your days and my days. You got a boyfriend and could not be two places at once. I had to stay where we live in our small town because I thought that was what happened to people who did not try hard enough in class. You told me otherwise, and moved away for school. He said he loved you forever and wanted every part of the package but that never included me. When he started hurting your heart, I could not be there to hold it back together.
We would always blast music all hours of the night and just feel the emotions out whenever the smallest issue happened but that became a less productive measure when you lived farther way. It was not so long ago the young dreaming and smiling us became to busy trying to be each other's "person". It became exhausting trying to get a hold of somebody in such a high social environment so I said I would text you later but it never went passed that. We had two separate cities blocking our way from constantly being by each other's side. You had nobody to turn too so your thoughts finally snapped again. We had episodes just like reality television shows but only ours did not end with credits. I cannot get the images out of my head when you called me saying you had locked yourself in the bathroom for the seventeenth time and decided to cut your vein right after we got our tattoos little did you know, you cut me too. You sliced right through the only thing I thought would help replace an awful reminder with a good one.
When the appreciation stopped after those twelve months of trying to communicate, the days that took place after we both learned a lot in a short time. This was not something you could stop. This was no longer our life. It was yours and the person you were trying to win against. I think realizing there was never anything I could say or do to make it go away was the most damaging. Watching someone you love desperately trying to feel something again. It suddenly stopped for a while and for a second, it was like the razor never took over. You started to become numb and even more distant. You would no longer talk to me and I would no longer listen to your pain. We grew to understand we were not always alike from the start and are not destined to be the same person forever. It did not mean you had to walk out of my life especially with the scars that you left with me too. You pushed me away because it was easier then admitting we no longer had one another. You had someone else and I got angry.
Somewhere along the way, your scars got worse on the inside you began to wear them on your sleeve. The more I tried to protect you from yourself, the less occupied you were to fix it all. The more control I took, the harder it was to grasp you doing this. Instead of helping, I didn't. I made it seem like your problem did not exist. When you mentioned it, I used the classic response: "stop it". I did what I did best, I distracted you with my life for so long because I thought you were yourself the most when you were with me. You were always you, whether I was around or not you would still feel the same way. I loved you for trying to end your fight but your battle was not with me, it was with you and the more I contemplate how many days it took to get you better, It never mattered to me. Just know that I bet you would love to see yourself now.