Unsent Messages

hey, it's me again. i shouldn't write to you anymore, but i have some things to say. not to you, just about myself. i feel like i only ever talked about myself when we were friends. i rarely talk about myself, so i tried really hard to put myself out there for you. whether that pushed you into a place where you didn't talk about yourself, i don't know. sometimes, i wish i was better at words. sometimes, i feel like my words are too harsh, or maybe i'm being manipulative by saying certain things. these days, even when i cry by myself, and even when i wish i had someone to confide in, i think i'm being manipulative. funny, isn't it? i am crying, and yet i feel i have no right to because i am just being manipulative. but i'm not being manipulative, i know that, but i can't help but feel that i am. i know there's no way trauma can be compared, that trauma is trauma no matter what, but do i really deserve to reach out for help? you see, i've realized something about myself. i don't think about myself until i have to; i ignore how i feel until i can't ignore it anymore. it builds up after days, weeks, months, until eventually i have one of those monthly breakdowns where i cry for five hours straight. but even then, am i not just using this as an excuse to not do my school work? i also looked into the detriments of overparenting and sheltered children. i don't know how you grew up, but i know we both had strict parents. my parents have grown to be more lenient in recent years, but the way they were during my childhood still haunt me. how their every answer was no, how they never cared for my emotional well-being, how they have made efforts in my young adulthood to be there for me, but some wounds are just too deep. my parents aren't bad people, but i can't confidently say they love me. my dad cried for me when he saw i was valedictorian. is that all i am? i always wanted to get praised, but maybe i've grown accustomed to not getting any that when he congratulated me, i felt empty. when anyone compliments me, i feel empty. when i talk to anyone, when anything happens to me, i feel empty. that sounds so edgy, but i always check myself. is what i'm feeling genuine? i wish i could live in the moment. you know, i can't blame my shortcomings on just my parents' overparenting. but the way i grew up, the way they raised me, it's becoming apparent how it has affected me. my family and i don't really have an emotional connection, and i think that mirrors a lot of my friendships. no emotional connection, and if there is one, i don't feel it. i can't see it. i can't even title a relationship i have as a friendship. even when i call people friends, it leaves a bitter aftertaste. it doesn't feel right. which i don't like. it's not fair to those who consider me a friend. it wasn't fair to you, who considered me a friend. i don't really know where i'm going with this. but i just want us to be happy, wherever we may be.