Dear self,
I'm not strong, for I am weak.
I'm pathetic and not worth it.
Two sentences to describe myself above. Sometimes I wonder why bother to keep going. Sometimes I can think of something but most nights I can't anymore, it's almost as if all my determination to stay is gone. But when I wake up I wipe my tear stained cheeks from the night before and lazily get ready for the day of cheer and laughter ahead. The day filled of full smiles, cheek to cheek grins, laughter filling every inch of every room. I just can't wait until the day it's not fake. The day where my thoughts of darkness are nothing but a memory. The day where the scars on my upper arm will be faded and forgotten, a memory. But until that day it'll all be fake. The way I feel inside will match my let on emotions shown from me features. Until then, these scars will thicken in size, and deepen in hurt, become fresh more frequently, numb.. dear self I'm pathetic and weak, not worth it and not strong... I'm just not...
Happy.
-LeRain(self)
YOU ARE READING
Letter a day.
Short StoryI'm doing a writing thing where I write a letter a day for 50 days, since I only have one book going right now I figured why not just post these, so I am. Hope you enjoy...(my names LeRain btw)
