I wrote this letter to myself the other day and I wanted to share it with you.
Sometimes death seems like a breath of fresh air. You reach the point where living seems simply exhausting. All the reasons in the world will not change your mind. You see, all the reasons in the word back up the choice to not go on. When I was young I was a happy spirit. Smiley, playful, adventurous, and full of energy. I felt like the whole world was at my fingertips. I had ambition. I had hope. Now the whole world couldn't seem harder to grasp.
I remember when it changed. I was 13 years old, in seventh grade. One day things just didn't seem so happy anymore. That was when I knew I'd lost it. I'd lost childhood. I would look back on the past and soak up the memories and then I would come back to the harsh cold reality. It was as if my mind wasn't protecting me anymore and it was time for me to protect my mind.
When you are a child you have a pair of glasses that have a tint of color. The world through those glasses is sunny and bright. The sky is the deepest shade of blue and the sun shines. Then suddenly you become a teenager and your glasses change to a new permanent pair. Through your new glasses you see the truth. No more colored tint. No more imagination. When you reach the point of no return you wonder if it is really worth living? Dying seems so much easier and so much more peaceful. What do you have to live FOR? That is the question you constantly ask yourself. When it seems the answer to that question is nothing…the truth is something. People who love you. People who truly love you. You would be hurting them in the worst possible way that you could. Yourself. Although you do not have your old pair of glasses you do have something brand new. the ability to truly feel. raw emotion while mostly bad can make the long wait to happiness all the more wonderful when you finally achieve it. Sometimes death seems like a breath of fresh air. However, one day you will experience a real breath of fresh air and trust me, that is all the worth waiting for.