Just A Little ReplyMature

You know me. You've known me for a long time. You were afraid to be different; so was I. Yet I wanted it, wanted it with a fierce burning desire, knew it was who I am, but, for a time, I could not face it. I could not reach out my hand and grab it. I stayed mousy, vulnerable, submissive, hating myself. You can relate. I hated my weakness, saw myself in my head as the heroine of a story; but I wasn't fully her yet. I cried bitter tears, but fear of lonliness kept me drowning in self hate.

I have learned it's not so bad to be alone. Yet, we are never truly alone. Just as you hid under your bed from the nightmares of your own mind, I fled to my roof, or found solace between the pages of a book. Up in the air, I felt like freedom was possible. Freedom from myself. But you know, yes you do, that I sometimes thought about jumping, wondered in curiosity how it would feel. It was not fear of the unknown which kept me there, on that cold slate roof. Perhaps it was hope, hope for a better future. Perhaps it was knowledge, knowledge of the pain I would cause. Perhaps it was experience, experience of what life could offer. Then again, it could be stubborness and a bull-headed determination to keep going, to survive, to stick it out 'til the end.

I want you to know that I don't blame you for not caring about the feelings of others. I forgive you for that, as I forgive you for everything. It has made me stronger, made me into the person I thought I could be, and now know I am.
And if I'm honest, I was numb. I felt nothing but the right words to say. I don't know if it hurt, or if I blocked all the hurt out and focused on those same right words to say,  if took a crash course in subtlety, if I learned how to manipulate the english language to my advantage and my understanding of the darker side of people or how to wrestle the positive side out of anything, to bring hope to the darkest conversations.

I feel as if we're slipping into old habits, you and I. I'm good with words, but this is ridiculous. I'm trying to explain, to explain that I know how it all feels. I know how to help now, I'm not fumbling in the dark, working on instinct. So I can keep you sane. Can help in five minutes when before it took two hours. My grip on sanity is tenacious at best but I'll keep a hold on yours. Your not alone. This was never about me, it was so you could understand. I need you to do that for me. Understand, your not alone. There's someone else keeping tabs on your mentality, there's someone else to give you hope, there's someone else looking for that extra torch with a couple of batteries to light the dark around you.

I'll walk on my own grey path beside your black one, I'll stand on the edge and shine the torch in your direction, I'll beam a smile, I'll give the warmth of a hug, I'll make you laugh to lighten the mood. I will give everything I am, do all that I can to help.

I am not support. I am not the person who will tell you what to do, what is right or wrong. I am your friend. I am the girl who will stand beside you. I will be the silent company to chase the shadows away. I am the girl who'll give you the words you need to build your own hope. I will stand beside you, on the edge. I will wait untill you can take that step back, untill you can look up and out at the world instead of just down.

But if you start to fall, rest assured I'll pull you back.

The End

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