I have an extremely gifted mind, and have always been extremely mature for my age. I skipped over 7th grade the same year I moved here to New York. I’ve hated it. I cut in 8th grade, was suicidal, bullied for my lack of religious beliefs, and attempted starvation more than once. In 9th grade, everything for better when I met him. He was 16, but people who had met us always thought we were the same age even though I was 13. He made me feel wanted and appreciated and for the first time since before fourth grade, like I wasn’t alone. His parents forbade us from being together, and didn’t even want us speaking because I’m not religious. Over the summer, he broke up with me, but I was hanging on, only self-harming minimally. I actually dated a close friend for about a month, but when school started up, and I was around Daniel again, I broke up with him. Daniel and I were back together, and I was finally happy again. I broke up with him on Sunday because I’m sick of him having to put up with me, sick of him being with someone who doesn’t share his beliefs, sick of him having strained relationships with his parents because of me. But now he won’t speak to me. He broke up with me a billion times last year, and we always patched it up. Now, I’ve lost my best friend. I have no one to speak to about my suicidal feelings, and he was the ONLY one of my friends who had experienced a huge move across country, and also my only friend who self harmed before. We spoke to each other more than anyone else, we were always by each other’s sides, we never stayed mad about ANYTHING for more than a day, we never pressured each other, we always encouraged each other, and we made plans for the future. November 1st was out one month mark. He’s a Junior, we had less than a year before he was 18 and his parents couldn’t tell him what to do. He held my hand, and he kissed me, and we sang silly songs together, and make stupid jokes. We had never been on a date, and had never been alone together. But everything was always okay because I had him. He didn’t even argue when I told him it wasn’t right for us to be together. He said, “I agree.” And now, as stupid as it is, he deleted me off his facebook, after posting a picture of a wood carving I made him; shattered. I have no way of contacting him even if I tried. I’m worthless, and alone, and I hate myself so much for hurting him. All of our mutual friends told me he’s upset, and I’ve seen it myself, and that’s the last thing in the world I want and it’s not fair and the only way I can stop hurting him forever is to not ever be around him again. I get to escape the pain, he gets to escape me, and so every night I try to swallow the pills by my bedside that my mom doesn’t know about. And every night I can’t because I’m weak and shallow and incapable. Yet I can’t move on because I’m weak. And I can’t g back because I don’t even have a way to speak to him. Where is my strength?
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1 comment
How long ago did this happen? In my opinion when such big events take place in one’s life your strength is in a far away place that will only return with time. The challenge, and by no means is it an easy challenge, is to be patient and wait for it to return.