A year ago I Spoke to you.
A year ago you heard me.
A year ago you accepted me.
In this last year Emma you and I have made each other cry, laugh, we have comforted each other, and learned from each other.
I know despite your black shadows inside of you is a shimmering waterfall of love and compassion. I don’t doubt an amazing heart beats inside of you.
You know the thing we have the most in common is our demons. We fight them daily, and just keep hoping for the day they finally set us free to live how we want to live.
Both of us are so complicated it’s unreal. Misunderstood by most of the world, ignored by the rest.
I understand your complexities and you understand mine.
Im frightened of people. I can’t look at people in the street or allow them to look at me. I panic. You know it’s because I’m terrified they will hurt me like I’ve been hurt before. If I could have one wish it would be to be invisible.
Because of my past I punish myself. I refuse myself sleep. I allow myself three hours a night. It’s not enough, it leaves me drained and feeling terrible all the time, but I need that control. I need to know I make choices about my life and not others. They did for so long. I can’t bear being told what to do. You tell me to sleep, remind me to go bed, encourage me without confronting me.
Last night we had a random conversation. You were hyper and I’m pretty sure in your head you were doing the timewarp to some jedward tune nobody else could hear, and it made me smile. Our thoughts turned to canes * and we both laughed. I went to bed last night and for the first time in months I allowed myself sleep. I slept five hours. I didn’t feel the need to deny myself after our chat.
You said in your blog Emma that I’ve helped you, but you forget that it’s as you say a two way street.
For so long I have had no voice to speak. I would open my mouth and nothing but pain would come out. At times it’s seeped out of me like a festering cut, always open. In you, I have found a voice. I can tell you the worst things about me, and you still want to know me.
You don’t hate me or judge me.
You tell me to button it when I’m talking crap, and you encourage me to write my stories. I’ve made you cry so many times telling my experiences. I hate that I make you cry, but I understand better now your not crying because I’ve upset you, your crying because you can imagine what those things are like.
I’m so amazed and humbled that you with all your history and complexities can accept me as I am and not need me to change. Nobody ever accepts me.
You know how much I love to write, and you encourage me to continue with it. I don’t think I’m good enough for the world. You tell me to shut up and stop being a plum.
I don’t know what our futures hold, if we will be friends still years from now, but I can say hand on my heart that I hope so. You amaze me, believe in me, and you hear me. You get me. You accept me and still want to know me. I would be lost without our random chats.
One day I 100% believe we will exorcise our demons, until then there’s lots more time to laugh, live and hope, knowing if we need someone where the other is.
Thankyou for being my rough diamond friend with the elephant brain and arse too !