leavingkindfootprints

Lots of people reading this know what it’s like to both sincerely hope no one notices there’s something wrong.. And at the same time desperately want someone to look right at them and say “I know you’re not okay.”

“It’s funny. I still feel like a little girl. I’m still looking around to check and see what other people are doing to make sure I’m not completely different; I’m still looking around for help, hoping for a quick nudge and a whisper of advice. But I can’t seem to be able to catch anybody’s eye. Nobody else around me seems to be looking around and wondering what to do. Why is it that I feel like I’m the only person who is confused and concerned about the choices I’ve made and where I’m headed.”

I love it when tragedies are like “the love was there. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t save anyone, there were just too many forces against it. But it still matters that the love was there.”

Dear little me,

May the bridges I burn, light the way.

“If you must die sweetheart, die knowing your life was my life’s best part.”

I used to think I had a tragic back story. But I don’t. I didn’t come from nothing, I came from a family that has loved me from day one and been able to provide me with what I need. I have a roof over my head and food on the table. There are no excuses for me, no limitations, no walls I need to break down. But I’m not a genius. Not a superstar, not this incredible human being. And my greatest fear is that I will never be able to do anything. People with incredible backstories change the world and I can’t.

I am yours. If I died this moment, I am yours. Forget me. Forget me and love me again as you did the first time. Forget me and come back to me again. My love.

I hope death is like being carried to your bedroom when you were a child because you fell asleep on the couch during a family party. I hope you can hear the laughter from the next room.

I do not miss childhood. But I miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt. But, I took joy in the things that made me happy.

If I could, I would apologise to the sky and my room ceiling for all of the nights I’ve awkwardly stared at them remembering things I should have forgotten.

We’re all killers. We’ve all killed parts of ourselves to survive. We’ve all got blood on our hands. Something somewhere had to die so we could stay alive.

Even before you touched me, I belonged to you; all you had to do was look at me.

I know you can’t give me anything more. But I’ll always be thankful for what you have given me. I’ll take memories and lessons with me for a lifetime. I just wish I could take you too.

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull