To the One Who Finds Me

To the unlucky soul that finds me,

 

Tell my mom I'm sorry. Tell her I tried. That I tried really really hard every day for the past what seems like forever ago to get past this

sadness.

Tell her I failed. Tell her that her little girl, for whom she had so many hopes and dreams for, lost.

 

She lost herself.

Somewhere in this maze made of needles, she was pricked too deep. A cut no surgeon could every completely mend, an injury no amount of time could ever heal, leaving a scar that no amount of confidence could ever destroy. That

needle threaded a piece of her soul out of her that day, and took with it the memory of its occurrence. Unbeknownst to her, she never was able to look at the world the same.

Every A+ came with an "I can do better next time", every job came with a "My experience will never be enough",

every success came with another boulder to push.

"Happiness will come tomorrow," she told herself every day, but tomorrow never came. Each day, with its own sorrows, battles, losses -

The kill count was going up, but the rewards never seemed to stack up, seemingly disappearing into the ground with every hurdle the girl mounted past.

Tomorrow was never going to come.

Tomorrow was lazy, tomorrow was a procrastinator, pushing plans to next day, and the next day, and the next... The only way the girl would see the light of tomorrow was if she brought  tomorrow to herself,

and she did.

She found the light.

 

Love,

Your little girl. X