You, you crazyamazingwonderful person. This is for you, to you:
Let me tell you about inadequacy: it's something I feel a lot, it's something I fear a lot. I don't talk about it. I don't talk about a lot of things, I leave them unsaid or leave cryptic indecipherable hints about them. Mostly they just translate into sarcasm or bitterness on my part. That's why I'm the way I am. I have a lot of unhappy inside.
I wouldn't tell this to anyone but you. I can write it down, I can let a million strangers read it, but wouldn't say it to anyone's face. I can see myself and you, and I can see myself telling you all this. Right now, I can, and that's important. At different times of the day I think different things --
Mostly I daydream about you. It keeps me out of trouble, you know, thinking of you. Last week I ended up collapsing, the center that had held for months just gave way, just like that, and I thought seriously about killing myself then. It's not been this bad for a while; even December wasn't this bad, and neither was July, I think. I've been pretty clean. But I think it was the combined effect of all those things coming together. What I didn't think in July I thought about last week.
There's still things I haven't thought about.
Last week, I thought of going to you and telling you about July. But I can't talk to anyone, I can't open up my mouth and utter the words, can't even fucking type them all out. I tried once with Simmy but it wasn't the right time and now things are...well, mostly back to square one. My mind goes to dark places, and when it does it goes to July first.
so, like I was saying -- last week. I couldn't think of a reason to live and I thought, If Mount Holyoke goes out of the picture, I don't know what I will do -- and I just sat there on the floor feeling shitty with my head splitting and I just thought of you a lot and it helped.
The reason I don't see myself telling you all these things is because I like you so much. Because if I say these things then what if you don't like me anymore. What if you don't think I'm cool. What if you see through me and see that I'm just a depressed teenager, nothing more, nothing special (which is how it is), and what if that leads to disenchantment. And then what? I lose what I have with you, and losing that might just ruin me at this point in time. And so I don't want to tell you things about me though they are the really important parts, things that are secrets and make up my world, not because I lack faith in you or your ability to understand or whatever, but just because I think you'll grow bored with what I really have to offer.
I will never be enough for you, and I know it, and I get that.
You're awesome. Know that. I thought of a way to put you down in words, and realized that basically you do whatever the hell you want. You have no fear. You're beautiful, insane and free. Just watching you speak, just watching you think, inspires me. It's weird but that's how it is. Someday I will tell you about this, in real life, just so you know that I celebrate your existence. I want you to be like this forever, please be like this forever.
I will come back for you, that is if you stay. I will come back for you. Even if I end up living at the bottom of the friggin ocean in an experimental underwater city, I will take some time to get back to you, to write to you, to see you.
I don't know anyone quite like you.