Dear... Universe
I write to you today, not as a whole, but as a fragment, a shattered vessel, trying to piece myself back together. I am lost in the labyrinth of my mind, disconnected from the reality that lies before me. I am but a hollow shell, a mere whisper of my former self, as if one strong gust of wind could shatter me into a million tiny pieces.
My days are filled with an ache, a throb that reverberates through every fiber of my being. This gnawing pain, born from the depth of my own insecurities and fears, drowns out everything else, even reason itself. I am consumed, engulfed by the flames of doubt and uncertainty, leaving me burnt and scarred.
And yet, amidst this chaos, I have made a promise, a solemn vow to give my all to someone, to share my love with another. But this simple act, this basic human need, has become a battlefield, a war within my own mind. For how can I give something that I cannot even feel? How can I pour from an empty cup?
I am alone, even in a crowd, isolated by the very walls that I have erected to protect myself. The weight of my anxieties is a millstone around my neck, dragging me down into the depths of despair. The emptiness inside me is a gaping chasm, a void that threatens to swallow me whole.
I am afraid, so afraid, of change, of evolution, of becoming someone different. For I fear that those around me, those that I hold dear, will view me differently, that they will leave. I cling to the familiar, the comfort of my own misery, for fear of the unknown.
But I yearn to be loved, oh how I yearn to be loved! I crave the warmth of human connection, the tender embrace of another soul. But I am afraid, so very afraid, of letting others in, of opening myself up to the possibility of pain. I am a fortress, a castle built on a foundation of fear.
The loss of motivation is a parasite, gnawing away at my will to succeed, to be important, to be successful. I watch as my dreams slip through my fingers like sand, a cruel reminder of my own inadequacy. And yet, I long to be proud, to stand tall and proclaim my worth.
And so, I am left feeling abandoned, a familiar sensation that haunts me like a ghost. I have been here before, in this place of darkness and despair, and yet, I cannot seem to escape its grasp. I am trapped, ensnared by the very chains that bind me.
As I write these words, I am acutely aware of the graphic nature of my own thoughts. But it is in this gore, this raw and visceral emotion, that I find a strange sense of solace. For it is in the darkness that we often find the greatest light.
So, I reach out, to you, the world, a fractured and broken soul seeking redemption. For I am young. Oh so young. Merely a teen, lost in today's modern world. I ask for your understanding, your compassion, as I navigate the treacherous waters of my own mind. I ask for your love, your warmth, as I long to feel whole again.
And as I embark on this journey, I am reminded of the words of the great poet, Rumi, who once said, 'The wound is the place where the light enters you.' May the light that enters me, heal the wounds that bind me, and set me free.