Unsent Messages

I'm writing this to myself, but I don't even know where to start. What color do I remind myself of? What color can show how much it hurts that I love so hard? I just want somebody to tell me I'm okay, so maybe if someone could tell me I'm okay, everything would be better. I've been trying to figure out if I really hate my name or if I just hate myself. Why wouldn't I hate myself? I'm wrapped up in a fabricated love story that my elementary school brain created to shield me. I needed to escape, so I loved her like everything was going to end. But the world picked itself back up, and here I am. I don't know what I'm doing because I'm from Manhattan and all of a sudden I go to a school with 300 kids. There's one street in my town, and I have three friends, which is more than I had in years. I'm floundering. I tried not to be like my mom, but I ran away from Manhattan and now I'm floundering. Every year takes me farther away, and I just want to go back. I just want to go back to 2015, because I was miserable, but I was home and I didn't know that my love story was a lie. I've gotten so used to the feeling of tears welling up and spilling out that it feels more like home than this town ever did.