Diary of a broken girl

by - 9:00 AM


Dear diary, 

I’ve always had writing as an escape. It’s been there when it felt like everyone else had left. It’s been something to hold on to when it seemed like every other thing was unsure.

Now, it feels like I’m simply running. Running away. Wanting an escape but maybe a different one. Definitely not this one. Not this one that helps me to acknowledge how shitty life has become. Not this one that makes me want to accept that I might have actually never felt true happiness. I don’t want this one that makes my shell shatter while forcing me to acknowledge the fact that I’m nothing more than this soft battered person. This person that’s stuck with nowhere to go. This person that’s been wandering with nowhere to call home.

I used to have an issue with crying. It always seemed like the hardest thing. It would feel like the tears were forming but they never came out. Until now. I used to think it was because I was so strong. Wrong. I’m beaten. And no “it’s not part of life”. This isn’t living. Now all I want to do is cry. It's probably the only thing that comes so easily. For all the tears that had gotten stuck, I’ve cried an ocean and a sea. When you’re beaten or broken but you have someone who gets it, I can tell you that life is a little bit better. You don’t have to explain certain things because they know you’re not just trying to be dramatic. They don’t wake up in the morning and think of how to get away from you. They understand that the fact that you have been able to trust them enough to open up to them is a huge deal. So when you’re down, they don’t let you wallow in your sadness long enough that the darkness gets you. 

I’m not a monster. I don’t wake up in the morning and think of how to kill everyone’s spirit. If anything, I do a little too much to make people around me happy. Sometimes, I feel like I shouldn’t be expressing how I truly feel. I know that doesn’t make sense but I don't feel like I can because I don’t want to be selfish. I mean the world doesn’t revolve around me, so why should anyone care that I’m actually in a lot of pain when there are worse things in the world? 

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