A Letter to You
By April, age 26, New Jersey
i thought about you today, just like every other day. things aren't staying the same, but nothing is changing. i'm not too sure how to go about this, but i'm trying. and that's all any of us can really do, is try.
sometimes, just getting up in the morning is hard. sometimes, just making it through the day without crying is an accomplishment. and now and then, no matter how each day is, it's never the same. never what it could actually be, just going through the motions of what it actually is.
maybe the best i can do, the only thing any of us can really do, is just that. just our best. learning how to survive. holding on to hope. and realizing that as much as we might want to, we can't look back. we can't get stuck in our yesterdays.
and what happens when we do? not sure. still figuring that one out. everyone always says it's best to just move on, keep moving forward. but no one ever taught me how to let go. and i don't think you ever really do.
i think it comes and goes, good days and bad. some days are easier to smile, and others, the only thing you can do is cry, is feel your heart break and wait for tomorrow to have it mend.
i don't know how i got here. or maybe i do. maybe i can re-count every moment, every conversation, every look i noticed and overlooked. maybe i now realize all the small, significant details i should have noticed from the beginning. maybe now, you do too.
and now i'm stuck in this small place of what could have been and what actually is. i keep myself enclosed, trying to not feel anything, and yet i can feel everything all at the same time. i'm worn out. drained.
i was told that when you can't do anything, and when you can't hear anything, to just stand still and wait. but what if i can hear everything. what if i already know half the answers and that's just not good enough. what if i can't be good enough. so i wait. and i'm not sure what i'm waiting for.
