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Someone who notices when I build another wall because I’m hurting, because I learned a long time ago that showing your emotions feels like bleeding in front of a shark. And instead of getting angry at you for the wall, they help you tear it down. Together.

Deep inside of my heart I hate having to do everything myself.

I can barely handle myself so why should I carry even more? Do this. Fix that. Be strong. Keep going.

I don’t want to anymore. I’m drained.

Why does nobody ever do things for me? Why did I always have to survive everything alone while everyone else received my help? It’s unfair.

Yet I’m the one pushing away when someone rarely tries to help.

“Why would you do this to yourself”

Maybe at thirteen you hurt yourself just to take care of the wounds because the feeling of care, even if it’s your own hands cleaning up the blood, it makes you feel like a child that is getting taken care of. A localized pain that is getting taken care of, a pain that heals, a pain that you heal with your own hands. The same pain that you caused just to take care of it because you love the feeling. Maybe many years later you still clench your fists until your nails painfully dig into your palm.

No matter who comes or goes, the one person who will always remain with me is me. I pick myself up from the floor when life gets hard. I tell myself I’m proud when I achieve something.

That’s just who I am. Always trapped inside my own world. Maybe one day someone will pull me out of it. But maybe I’ll only return to that world even more wounded than before.

Cupid’s arrow. An arrow piercing my heart. That arrow will only strike when I no longer have to hide how I feel in order to seem perfect in front of someone. When I can finally be a child again. When I don’t have to solve everything.

Cupid’s arrow would strike.

Until they leave me alone just like everyone else did. Until they hurt me too. And the arrow pierces through my artery and lets me bleed out until I die.

When I’m alone and don’t love anyone, everything feels normal. Stable. But when I love it feels beautiful. Love is intense. Yet it’s also intense in another direction: pain. When I love, my heart is either overflowing with euphoria or overflowing with hurt.

So why not just stay “normal” forever? Isn’t that okay too? No highs, no lows. Because with highs come lows. Why enjoy the highs if the lows destroy you afterwards? Highs cannot exist without lows, and lows cannot exist without highs.