What hurts the most…should be you. You should hurt the most.
When I was younger, I went through a lot of hard times. Isn’t that how it always is? We go through a period in our lives where we feel we could never possibly get through it and then we do. Well, when I was younger I took my hardship very poorly. I pushed everyone away because I didn’t want to face my own problems and I knew if I was alone no one would ask because they’d just assume I was “being me”. Needless to say for a large chunk of my high school career I had a lot of on again off again friends.
That’s not the worst part though. The worst part is that every so often I would feel like I was ready to get back into life and be a part of it. I would befriend people again, get more involved in clubs, date. Sadly though, as quickly as I felt better, I didn’t anymore. Something would happen at home and drag me down again, someone would say something to remind me of the person everyone saw me as. I’d start to believe that my friends didn’t actually want to be my friend, that they felt sorry for me. That the clubs I was in were pitying me and were just happy I was trying to do something with my life. That the guys I dated didn’t really love me, they just wanted to be the hero and save me.
Thankfully, I met a lot of people who refused to give up on me. People who made sure I didn’t drop out of clubs, that I didn’t fall behind in class, that I was never alone. I had amazing teachers who encouraged me to channel my feelings into my school work or into writing. As a result, my English teacher could always see the passion in my creative writing pieces. I wrote a lot of songs and poems about how I felt. To this day I can’t read or sing some of them without crying. When I do read them, everything I felt in those moments comes back and my fresh tears cover the dried ones already on the page.
There was a turning point where my life started to turn around and get better. Since then I’ve solidified a lot of friendships, I’ve realized I am actually good at some things. More importantly I realized that what was dragging me down wasn’t real. They were words from the bottom of a bottle that I wish I could have echoed off me but instead they sank into me. They drowned their sorrow and drowned me with them.
A friend of mine stuck closely by me as a went up/down for years. He stood by me and tried to catch me when I fell…If I let him. He’s really important to me and I know he wants more from me but I don’t want to lose him. I know if we went further, I’d push him away and I’d feel so awful about it that I’d make sure it was the last time I ever pushed him away. I’d never let him back in. I’ve hurt him so many times, I’ve broken his heart on so many occasions, I’ve watched him fall and walked away. He has a heart of gold but I know if we tried again I’d drop his heart again and what if this time he didn’t pick it up? What if he thought it was his fault when in reality it has ALWAYS been my fault. He should hurt the most…so why is it me? I broke his heart but it’s breaking mine that he’s still willing to try. He has so much faith in me while I have no faith in myself.