You left because you no longer are able to be there for me. You don’t know how to. You’re too concerned for yourself, for your happiness. I’m angry because I would put my happiness aside to stand by you through a rough time, I would do it in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t question it. I would never. And the thing is, I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself. You have made the choice to protect yourself, and your own happiness. You took a break, because you know the ways of self-love and self-care. Yet I don't. I'm angry at myself for not being able to put myself as an equal to you, to be able to care and love myself just as much as I would for you. When our worlds collided, it was beautiful. Your world was my escape, I devoted myself into understanding and caring for your world, but you were aware. You kept your distance from my past, my family, my world because you know it's toxic. You know how dark and consuming it can be. Well now, play time is over. I have to face my reality, I need to know that I can be strong enough to break through from the darkness. So I went back to fight my world, to find myself again. Yet, you let go, you're scared, frustrated. You aren't willing to fight with me.
You left because you’re hurting ? You’re hurt because I’m not there for you ? That I’m too troubled with my own mental health to cuddle you, to shower you with affection, with compliments, with hugs, with boy talks, with happiness...etc. You’re hurt because I’m not “me”, because I don’t make you laugh anymore. Because I’m cold. Because I’m no longer easy to talk to, I’m not a bundle of joy, making jokes everyday, making your world all sunshine and rainbows. You're hurt because I don't communicate well enough, you asked why after 3 years of friendship, I can still feel this insecure ? The thing is, it's problematic, and painfully insensitive. It is insensitive for you to think that a depressed me isn't me, well guess what ? I've battled with mental illnesses throughout many years now. This is me. You out of anyone, should know that it's a performance. I perform. I've given the world my best, and now even when I'm at my worst, people still expect me to still give them my most happy, charming self. It's ridiculous. It is also problematic that you surround yourself with problematic men, overseeing harmful behaviors that are insensitive to me and my community. And it's painful for you to say that you'll be angry if I kill myself, as if I don't have enough guilt inside me eating me alive. To think that if I do die, my last thought will be how sorry I am for angering you. It's wrong for you to expect so much of me. You want me to be healthy, to be happy, to be okay ? You think it's so easy ? Please, as if I don't feel enough of a disappointment.
Do you know ? That it sometimes pains me to love you, to be your friend ? When we walk down the street and get catcalled, you get annoyed, and expresses your disgust, where as I only feel privileged to be passing as a woman next to you. When we hang out, you can carelessly make jokes about my foreign background, we laugh together, but I still hate myself for my broken English, for my accent, for how I will never be beautiful as you because I'm not pale enough, my hair is not blonde enough, that I'm not skinny enough. When I'm not safe and accepted in my own home, you take me in, for refuge, showing me the warmth of your family, calling me your sister. Yet now, you're being discouraged to see me, as I bring too much stress and anxiety onto you because of my depression.
I don't have a father who will call, or come home bringing me presents, I don't have a mother who will hug me when I cry, and constructing a reality that's safe and calming. You are loved, cared, and protected. You are told that your happiness and your well being matters, that you need to block out the things which causes you stress and sadness. You are told that things will be okay, that you'll be okay. Well I'm sorry, too bad for me I guess. Because things are not okay for me, and I have no one to tell me that it'll be okay. But I don't need that. All along, I just needed someone to be there, to be here, to let me know that I'm worth loving and caring. That I'm worth staying and fighting for. Now, I refuse to call. Because I'm tired, tired of trying to make you understand, to make you love me. If you can't show compassion for my depression, then I'm in no place to ask for it. And I get it. You feel upset because you don't deserve to be pushed away, to be mistreated. Yet, please don't ever put your discomfort above mine, especially when I have to live with such discomfort every single day. You say you deserve more love from me, well I agree. But it's an impossible task when I'm short of supply, not even enough for myself to survive. Please try to understand, and I'm not worried. I know that you'll find as much love as you need and desire, because you're you.
You have a beautiful heart, and it's just painfully unfortunate that you have chosen me to work on I guess. Just know that you can't fix me, I know you say you don't try to. But you do because of your expectations. You expected the 3 years of friendship to be enough to fill the hole in my heart. You expected me to be okay, to accept the love you pour into me, to believe that I deserve the love just because you said so. And when I lost myself to the darkness, you didn't understand. You didn't understand why nothing has worked, why it was still not enough. Darling, it was. It was enough. You're so full of love, but you pour them out so blindly, yet now, I just need you to open your eyes. Pour them carefully and pour them with care, please.
Lastly, I love you. I still love you and I'll never stop loving you, but I understand if you need to go. I understand that you've tried your best. Thank you, for giving me such a wonderful and beautiful friendship full of laughter and joy. Who knows what will happen next for us, but no matter what, I'll be here. I will, with others or by myself, happy or sad, I'm just here, being me.
Love, XOXO
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