Unsent Messages

Why are you so lost? Why can't you focus? I don't think you know what you're doing. Is it okay? Are you okay? No one ever asks you that. Can they tell you're breaking into pieces; shattering beyond repair? When will it be too late? You're never happy anymore. What happened to the person you were last year? Can they ever come back? Or are they gone for good? Who knows. Not you, certainly. Days slip by in a blur of school and work, of tears and exhaustion. Repetition has become the norm. Nothing is new. Nothing is bright or fun anymore. Your friends don't reach out to check on you. Can they tell something is wrong? Can your parents tell something is off? Would they do anything if they knew?

You're lying in bed on a Sunday night. You already cried. There are salty remnants of your pain on your face. You don't want to wake up for school tomorrow. Winter break is only a few days away but you can't make yourself feel excited for it again. Your body is constantly tensed. Your lungs feel as though they are holding in a perpetual breath, one that you can't seem to let out. Breathe. Breathe. You still can't release it. It's the result of stress and isolation, of both hyperfocus and simultaneously procrastination and pushing thoughts away. You can't catch a break.

Where are you going to go from here? You don't know. Will you ever know? Why do you refuse to think about the future? Does it scare you? No. It worries you, doesn't it? Yes, I thought so. You're unsure of your decisions. You don't want to choose the wrong thing. What happens if you do? Will your life crumble before your eyes, like a sandcastle left too long in the scorching sun, the heat leeching all the moisture and structure from its form? Or will you be okay? You don't know. And it terrifies you. It's okay. You don't need to know now. The world is an enormous ocean, rich with new chances and opportunity every day. If you miss this one, it's not going to kill you. Countless more will float by as you wait for the one that's just right for you. It may take a hundred tries to find it. There's nothing wrong with that. It's okay to be afraid of the future. You don't need to be, but there's nothing wrong with fearing the unknown and the endless possibilities that lie there.

Your still lying in bed on a Sunday night. You still don't want to wake up for school tomorrow. But the trickles of saltwater on your cheeks have dried. You feel more at peace with the world now. You understand that you have time to figure things out. There is no rush. You will be okay. You hope that if anyone reads this besides yourself they are able to find solace in it. You hope that they understand what you're trying to say, what you're trying to feel.

If you read this: I love you. You are okay.