Dear... Friend
I feel completely miserable in my life. What a way to start off this letter! But I don't care much really.
I moved across the globe to follow a dream, also to escape my life at home. There was my family, to whom I never really bonded, then there was life. So exhausting, so difficult. There were fights all the time, and shootings and I never had any money, any privacy, anything to call mine. Perhaps my thoughts, and that was it. Then I went out, and it felt like I was breathing freely, after a very very long swim. I continued and travel even further away. What joy was to meet all these new people, see these amazing places. To meet you. I think that was what one calls happiness.
I also felt sad, I have to admit, I felt empty at times. Sometimes there weren't enough new places or dishes to discover. But I was in control, so I looked for help and I got it. I got your help. It was amazing, to feel like someone cared, to be listened to, to be able to say the things I thought. I was finally sharing them, the one thing that had always been truly mine. It did help, I don't think you will ever know or understand how much. Talking to you was the best thing I have ever done for myself. The amount of compassion you showed me was of that I never knew a human body could store.
I grew up so much thanks to you. You showed me I wasn't who I thought I was. I wasn't inherently wrong; a mistake from the beginning. I learned that my existence wasn't meaningless, it never was.
Then I moved on and took this job. You know, I couldn't afford to stay, so many reasons, there was nothing I could do. Also, I thought this job would help me with my career, I thought it would do good to me. But I was mistaken. This job has sucked out all the motivation I ever had for this profession. I can't stop wondering, is it the job or is it me? Am I just incapable of getting along with these people? Were you an exception? Am I, after all, still messed up?
In this new city, I have no friends and you are so far away. I am lost. I don't know what to do. If I quit I have to go back home. If I stay... I am not sure I can muster the courage to do that. The problem is, I also don't have the courage to leave. What a stupid thing this is, not knowing. I know I don't get to see you anymore. Meeting you was as brief as the moment it takes to grab air before you dive in. But that is the thing, I am running out of oxygen. I miss the past. But how do I solve this?
You know well I never ask my family for advice and never will. I am alone here, so very much alone. What now? What do I do?
I miss you deeply. I so wish to be able to write this, but I don't want you to think I am feeling bad again, I don't want you to worry. You deserve better things in life, better friends, better everything. I just don't fit that.
I miss you so much.
With love,