I’ve been putting off writing this for a while, mostly because I’m still conflicted with the way telling this story makes me feel. For once it isn’t about a friend who claims unconditional love but in fact, someone who I thought their title’s definition meant loving you no matter what. They were meant to love you, broken or whole, hurt or healthy, and if you did end up breaking they were supposed to help you heal. I’ve never written about them, poem or other, because it always seemed wrong to do so. It felt like if I wrote these things down for some reason the feeling would seem more real and there wouldn’t be any way to take them back or change them.
Another reason I feel like I’ve been so hurt and can’t let go of my sadness. I finally realized that it was you. The entire time, it was you.
I was hurting for so long and even after we talked about the self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and feelings of madness, I think you thought it would all just go away. However, even then I still felt some type of way towards you. Whenever I spoke about you, it still felt wrong to be able to tell people of the “wonderful” childhood I had, but I couldn’t quite honestly say that I hated you. Except now that I was moving forward from the feelings of loneliness, sadness and hatred with myself, that I began to see I couldn’t do it just yet because I would soon be going back to the house I grew up in and have to “deal” with living with you two for the summer. There was something about this idea that made me feel really sick. I realized then that I couldn’t really move on by just letting go of a friend, but I also had to deal with the one person I hadn’t really yet forgiven… you.
You knew. You knew I was in pain at such a young age. You knew that I had these thoughts and not just once had you sat me down and (as much as I hated it then) talked to me about why my feelings were invalid. You thought that it was “just a phase” or that I “was being influenced” but really I was trying to make sense of it all. You found out I was in pain and instead of helping me, you pushed it aside and pretended that I was okay. You told me that if I contacted someone for help (which wasn’t what I wanted then) that it would affect my future and it would go “on my record”. These words terrified me. Then I got older and believed the lies you fed me and when yet again I was feeling distressed, who was I to turn to? The one who kept saying that she loved me and was there when I needed her but pushed my feelings to the side, acting as if they weren’t real? I trudged on and had to grow up this way. Then when I finally found out it was all a lie, I was shocked. You know, some people don’t have those people they can talk to, they don’t have someone they can turn to, they have no one, but I had you. But I didn’t really have you, did I. You had the opportunity to help me and you turned me aside and deep, deep down I could never forgive you for this. For seven years I was in pain and the last 3 of them I had wanted it all to end so badly that I almost entrusted you with my feelings again, but I didn’t want to be rejected the care I needed so I hid it. Until just recently, when it was time to go “home”, I realized that I could have felt better about a lot of things much, much, MUCH sooner. You’re the reason why I continued to hurt. You’re the reason why I still feel hurt about the way things went growing up. I was supposed to grow up and feel loved, wanted and cared for, and although I can’t put the blame on just one person for the way I felt, I know I could have felt better. Yet you were the reason why it wasn’t so.