Dear Emily

To dear Emily, Recently I know we haven't been getting along as well as we used to. I know that you are telling everyone that it is my fault. Perhaps at times it is. I cannot help that I have a lot of psychological issues that have come to the forefront recently. All part of my trying to get better, according to the doctors. Recently I feel that you don't even know that I exist. I do. I feel, I breathe and I hurt. It hurts me that you don't even seem to care. You tell everyone that I lost touch, that I am apathetic about the whole situation. I'm not. I hurt in every fibre of my being. In fact, the very defining factor of borderline personality is that we feel emotions far stronger than others. I'm dying on the inside but I have to be a rock on the outside or I'd melt all over the floor. I thought you understood that, and that was why we were friends. I thought you understood me inside and out, and I loved you more for respecting me. Now you don't even seem to understand the words I use to talk with you. I don't know what went wrong, I don't know when you stopped understanding me. I don't know when I ceased to speak the same language as you, but all I know is that I am tired of swimming upstream. You tell me you can't handle my dark thoughts so I don't tell you. Now you complain I don't tell you anything. I do, but trust me, there isn't much light inside my soul. At least not right now. When you stopped caring, I lost something to live for. I lost motivation to keep contact with the outside world. My box is my world. Chaotic and messy and disorganised. But it is here that I sleep, eat and breathe. Here tha I come back to in order to feel safe. My bad accepts me just the way I am. Now that you don't, I have no reason to leave my bed. These four walls enclose me but they protect me from the unfamiliar world. These walls keep the danger out, or at least that is what I feel. I know I don't matter to you anymore. I know you are only going to be my friend if I do "the grand gesture". I'm struggling to keep myself on my feet, how can I use my arms to do anything else? I'm OK with us drifting apart if it is mutual, but why does it have to always be my fault? Why do I always have to cry? Why? It's not my faiult the world is grey. I just keep myself alive if I have something to live for Goodbye old friend. I think I might have dreamt you