I wasn’t entirely okay growing up. I had issues, more than I knew how to carry at that age, and there was so much I was quietly struggling with. There were times when my mind went to terrible places, when I thought about doing all sorts of horrible things just to make everything inside me stop hurting.
And then I grew up. None of my troubles really went away. If anything, they grew with me, becoming heavier and more complicated as life did. And sometimes, my mind still went to those same dark places. Except now, there was something that stopped me. Him. I just couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t leave him behind in a world where I had done something like that. I couldn’t bear the thought of what it would do to him, because I knew he still needed me. And somehow, knowing that became reason enough to stay.
But somewhere along the way, life turned itself around. He stopped needing me, and I started needing him more. And every time I did, he was barely there.
Even then, I don’t know, I think some part of me always believed things would eventually be okay. That no matter how distant we became or how much changed between us, there were certain things we could never become to each other. There were certain ways he could never hurt me.
But to have felt the amount of pain I have felt because of him, through the things he has done and, sometimes, through all the things he chose not to do, has broken something in me I don’t quite know how to explain. Because this was the person who, without even knowing it, once gave me a reason to stay alive.
And now I find myself wondering why I fought so hard to stay at all.
She Was Sea 