It is so nice to forget everything. To be free, to be happy, even if it is for a little bit. These moments of peace are what get me through each day. I like to laugh with friends. I like to tell jokes. I like to share happy and crazy stories of the past. I like to try and pretend to be my old self. And then, I remember. I remember the past that refuses to let go of me, that seems to follow me everywhere. The past that reminds me that I am not the same. That the new me has a hole that can not be fixed and makes my friends be careful what they say around me. The new me that turns every small thing into something so much more. The new me that I hate. I do not know who this person is, but I know that it is not me. I desperately wish for the girl that I used to be, when I used to smile and laugh and genuinely mean it. I used to be able to sleep through the night without waking up in a sweat and tears all over my face. I used to be able to have friends, without pushing them away. I am so frustrated with myself. I want to be better, I really do. I want to go back to my old self. The pain seems endless. Sometimes I wonder if it will ever go away, if I will ever be able to get back what was taken from me, if I will ever be happy again. Occasionally I can only see one outlet to finally be rid of this pain, but that is accompanied by the fact that I will never experience happiness again, that I will be just as weak as them. I am not there yet, but one day I will be stronger than I ever thought possible, and I continuously wish for that day to come because I don’t know how many more days of this frustration and dejection I can take.
Even with all this pain,
I cover it with a smile.