Story A thread for the people in my life

[anopenwound]

This is gonna be a thread where I'll come back again and again to say the things I wish I could. Nobody has to read it if they don't want to. But I need to do this... I need to do this.

Sweetie, my best friend. You're the first person that comes to mind when I think about who I love. There's no words that can describe how grateful I am to have found you in this fucked up existence. You're a blessing to everybody that comes your way and not a day goes on without me wishing I was more like you. Always so positive, uplifting - a champion of life. I look up to you. I admire you. I'm trying to be like you and I'll keep on trying until the very end of my life.

I can't wish you to know how horrible living feels to me. If I can, I keep you out of this misery. But I fail all the time and you still pick me up. I can't understand why. You're just wonderful, you're a star - you just do the right thing, always. Which includes taking care of fuck ups like me.
Lord I hope you'll never understand my pain. That's why I can't tell you any of this. I don't wanna make you more miserable than I already have. I'm tired of burdening you. I can tell when I look at you, when I'm drowning, that you don't get it and you shouldn't. I'm glad you never will. But sweetie, star of my life, I'm tired. I'm tired. I want to get out of here all the time. It's bad. It's really, really bad. I know you don't understand but please believe me when I say this is unbearable.

I love you. I love you more than words can describe, more than you'll ever know, and I'll love you even more when I'm gone. Your life will get easier, with way less drama and conflict. I don't wanna do this to you anymore. Please know I tried. Please know I've always, all the time, tried so hard to get better. But God. Dear God. My skin is falling off and my heart is dust. Everything hurts and I still love you.

Please be happy. Please never stop being the amazing person you are. Please save every single soul you can - the thing you do best.

You've been the single most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me.
Thank you.

 

[anopenwound]

I look at all of you hanging out in the beer garden and I think you're the most beautiful bunch of bastards I've ever seen in my life.
I wish I could stay. I do.

 

[anopenwound]

In Nanette, Hannah Gadsby said «Do you know why we have the sunflowers? It's not because Vincent van Gogh suffered. It's because Vincent van Gogh had a brother who loved him. Through all the pain, he had a tether, a connection to the world.»

If I ever did anything in this life that wasn't a complete waste, it's because I had all of you.

 

[anopenwound]

O.,

I wanted to call you tonight, but I only ever do it to talk about my problems. I'm sure you're even more of tired of this than I am and you deserve way more than a shell of the friend you used to have.

I wish I had enough wisdom to solve all of your troubles. It's what you give me when my mind falls apart. I don't know how you manage to always find the right words but you do.
I have such lovely memories of watching movies together, of the tenderness that unexpectedly came out of our interactions, of all the times you giggled at your own jokes, almost as if you surprised yourself for having such a messy emotion.
You look like an angel - you're the closest of us to being one. You have a beautiful mind. I tell you all the time. I feel privileged in being close enough to you to see how it works.
I know you hate your smile. You know I think you shouldn't. I wish you saw how beautiful you are through my eyes - if you did you'd probably laugh and smile and chuckle all the time. You'd know how happy that makes me feel, how happy everybody is to have you in their lives. First and foremost, obviously, the boyfriend you brought into our group - one of our dearest pals now. One of the many things I'm grateful to you for.

I wanted to call you tonight but I didn't. I cried myself to sleep. I thought of all the things you'd have to tell me again and I decided not to put you through this. Even telling my best friend that today was awful felt like an episode - your pal is always having a hard time. What else is there to do?

I wish there was a way for your words to reach me, to stay in my mind and in my heart, to finally heal me. I wish I was stronger. I wish I was able to believe you every time you tell me that I'm not that horrible, that it's not my fault. I wish that your words could heal the entire world and its injustices. But O., my angel, I'm trapped here. I'm trapped in this terrible nightmare and this time I can't run away. I'm trying to wake up but it's not working. I think sleeping forever is the only choice I have left.

O., I love you. I meant it every single time I said it. I know you'd have every right to think I only ever said it 'cause you were there for me, but God, please believe me when I say it's true. I love you. That's why I'm not calling you tonight.
I'll keep on trying to see you and not mention any of this. I wish I did it more. I wish I had the energy I used to have. I wish I could get out of this bed and be with you, every time you need me. Every time you just want your friend back.

I love you. I love you. I wish I could tell you without crying. I wish you wouldn't know what I'd mean when I'd say this, over and over again. You'd be very quick to tell something's wrong. You deserve better than this constant tension.

You're beautiful inside and out. I'm sorry I have to leave. Please, please, please, don't hate me. It's so painful to be here, to drown in a world that's drowning in that hate.
It's gonna get easier with time. There'll be no more emergencies to answer to. Your life will have more room for something better than keeping me afloat.

I love you. I love you. I love you. Please believe me. I love you.

 

[anopenwound]

Z., baby.
You keep on trying to reach me and I literally have no words for any of your messages.

You were right to leave. You were right to sense that something was missing.
It was me. I was missing.

Ever since I met you I knew you were a beautiful soul and that you deserved all the love in the world. That's why I kept trying to give it to you; you were so present and you were so warm. You still are even if you really, really don't owe me anything.
I tried to love you. I did love you. But I think there's a difference in trying and just doing and I don't think I managed to love you in the way you needed me to.
I hate BPD for this. I look at my symptoms and at how they appear to others and I think I'm pathetic, I'm a shell of a person, I'm laughable. Who the fuck thinks like me, acts like me, is like me? Nobody should. It's embarrassing. Yet you never judged me for it. You never made fun of me for it. But it was a problem and eventually it ruined everything.
I ruined everything.

I don't think I can shake off the feeling that it is me who is to blame for the emotions I carry with me everywhere I go and yet I have no idea of how to get rid of them. Even when I don't think about whatever it is that upsets me - they're always there. Then I remember. I remember that I've let you down.

But you were right. You were right. I don't love like a person should. I don't love in a way that is good enough for anybody. It's either incredibly ugly or incredibly detached. There's no in between. There's just these two horrible states of being, neither of which works.

You always told me I was strong, but between the two of us you are the one that has overcome the most, you are the one who came out of it better, you are the one who is a beacon of hope for everybody in your life. You never lost your tenderness even though life has given you plenty of reasons to give it up. You're kind. You're loving. You're the bravest person I've ever met - which is exactly why you've brave enough to end this. I wasn't.

I keep on wanting to call you and ask you if you think that I'm a bad person. Do you think I'm horrible? Are you ashamed of ever having been with me? Do you think I did you wrong? Do you think I should end my life?
'Cause I really want to, Z. I'm exhausted. I keep on doing everything wrong. I've let you down. I try to do the right thing and I only manage to make everything worse.
Is anything that I do worthwhile?
Was the time we spent together worthwhile?
Can you please, please, please, hold me tight and tell me that I'm not a fuckup, that it wasn't my fault, that I didn't deserve any of it, that I deserve to live?

I'm sorry I did all of this.
You're wonderful. You're a treasure. You're so precious. I feel like all of this has been such a waste 'cause anybody that is lucky to have you should know it - they should treat you better than I did.
I'm so sorry Z. I'm so fucking sorry.

I hope you'll hold me as I go. 'Cause for real, baby, I'm... I'm too tired.
You know I always do this to myself. I think I went too far.

I'm too tired to stay.

Please honey, please. Find yourself someone better. Find yourself someone that will stay there until the end. Someone who isn't as broken as I was.
It will make everything better. I promise.

I love you.
I know I wasn't good at showing it. But I love you.

I will always think of you.