I know you’re struggling. I see it in your face when we pass each other on the street. I see the way you shift from foot to foot and stare longingly into the distance as if you’re looking for a long-lost friend. The bags under yours eyes tell me you haven’t slept in days and your chewed fingernails tell me you’ve been nervous for quite some time. The scars on your arms tell me that you have known pain. You want to know why this has happened to you; why your life refuses to be normal. Why can’t you just be like everyone else? Why isn’t it easy? You see others brush off their heartache like it is nothing… but you are different. You feel everything. You feel alone. But you’re not. While you may not see my scars physically, they are there. Hidden in a part of me that I have buried and locked away. I’ve known pain. I’ve known loss. I have watched my world crumble around me, and tried my best to put it back together. So no, my friend. You are not alone. You will rise, and even if you fall again, you will rise more victorious than the last.
I love you.