some letters that will never be sent, they're not for you, they're meant for nobody.
it's weird, you know? if you asked me a year ago what things would be like, i wouldnt have guessed this. but maybe its some sick joke you pull on me just to drive me further down, with you, i dont know.
the constant back and forth and back and forth is just infuriating and its something i dont understand. what am i? just some stress reliever? that's not much, and im not blaming you for it either, but dehumanizing me constantly isn't helpful.
each day for me is a struggle, not just because of that, but because of all the dehumanization that goes on around me. to put it simply, i don't exist. nothing i do, and nothing i ever will make me special. i am nobody, just like you told me before you turned around and i had the best 11 months ill probably ever have. why might i say that? because i don't expect to be around for the next three or four years. it's sad, sure, but its something i have thought about and sort of realized its the best solution for the both of us. ive always been a frugal person, you know that. i get the best bang for the buck and i'll quite literally die trying. why waste sixty or seventy years working towards what? dying once i have? i don't see the point.
i have nothing to work towards and nothing to be proud of. i am nothing. you probably aren't happy to hear that, at least maybe i'd hope so, but i don't know what i am to you. maybe i'm a friend? maybe i'm just nothing. that whole spiel that this past summer was supposed to be was a light, something i could work towards at the end of the tunnel, but once that light was shoveled over, i stopped walking, i've given up and each day i do what i have to do in the hopes that i'll find something to make me special, even if i know i won't. i'm probably switching colleges next year so i can be near some of my few remaining friends, maybe that'll help, maybe it won't. i want to be out of here, out of this toxic atmosphere that is choking me out. i just wish there was something special to me, but there isn't. you were right, i am nothing. i don't matter. it hurts because while i don't know what i am to you, i also don't know what you are to me.
i still like you, despite you thinking i hated you. i still trust you, despite everything you put me through, and even i don't understand why, but i do. i cling on to life just hoping, praying to a god i don't believe is real that maybe, you cared, that someone cared. but when i have a chance, it's never there for me to take. i'm being held back and i don't know why. maybe i just want to call it quits and don't want you to get involved because i'd just drag you down with me, and i wouldn't be lying if i said some part of me wanted to, but i know that it's wrong.
hurting someone else by hurting myself is wrong. maybe i'll say nothing, and it'll just come out of the blue as some sort of surprise. it feels as if my hands are tied and the clock is ticking. if i dont find something to make me special, then it's over. please just care, even if only a little, i just want to be treated like a human being who matters.
someone told me that life was like a staircase, and small things add up and keep me going up the stairs. i tried that, i really really did, but with each step i thought i took, it was like falling down to the bottom again. i'm at a point now where, and i've told you this before, that i have accepted that nothing will help and nothing ever will. i wish life was someone telling me what to do and how to do it. "here, this is what you're going to pick, this is what you'll do and how you'll succeed." but it's not.
i understand that everything is going great for you now, you've got it all figured out. i commend you for that. but yet part of me still wishes it was two years ago again where i was happy with something so simple, but life is complicated. what i am is complicated and likely nothing i will ever understand.
i am an awful person, i have come to accept that, and pushing my mental anguish onto anyone, onto you in particular is just unfair. life is unfair. it's not like you'll ever see this despite me trying to show you. maybe i'm overthinking things, but i'm done. i'm losing.
i like to think that it's just one elaborate game of revenge for existing. good work, because something this complex deserves some kind of award.
