As I stare out a window in my sophomore math class, the gleam of hope that Mr. Dean was, giving the morning announcements.

I have this undying feeling something bad is coming and I’m not sure I have the courage to stop it.

I filled so many blank pages the summer before. Fallen head over heels for a boy who just couldn’t understand why I didn’t see the beauty he saw. That summer he turned 18. No longer a boy, now a man he wouldn’t date me because I was underage. I couldn’t get my heart to understand that. What id love to call poetry; more than likely my own love letters to death. The thought of someone loving me was obsolete. Beside my chosen few family members, I couldn’t be my true self and keep a friend. Though we were all trying to find ourselves, others took more than they gave. Those are ones I wish to forget on my birthdays. This boy grew to be more than a love interest, my first love and my best friend.

I’ve always felt awkwardly forced into a daily routine that lacked the serotonin it took me to stay focused and the dopamine to know the difference between burnout and a pipe dream.

Knowing now in my heart the list of disorders that make up the many fractured pieces I call home, my heartbreaks for the girl who mirrors my past experiences; no matter the age difference.

My alter ego ran ramped just under the nose of those who trusted, I was the child they fostered into the honest teenager that stood before then. Deep inside was a child too mature to play with children. Many nights spent burning both ends to keep it all a secret. Made friends, both high and low, who’d listen to my story, see the connections and take action. I wish them well with a little piece of my heart for being a part of how I got to here. Not all of them always on the same side. Respect for me until I wasn’t around to see it. Even them I give a piece of my day to. Hoping they found peace before they laid to rest one last time.

To hang on by a threat and be deathly afraid of dying, creates an unbreakable bond between “do it” and the shame to keep on going.

That was the day I decided to fight and asked for help, again and truly is the starting point of this healing journey I’ve been on.

I begged those counselors to keep it all a secret. It didn’t matter what the bruises said, they’d say I deserved it. The difficult one with bad associates. It’s hard to fight off people who want you for the same reason your running. My mind. A place you go to escape the clutches of the four walls I’m trapped in. A space they say is broken and can’t be fixed with anything less than the back of a hand. I clutched my fist and said no more. Words I don’t want my kids to read off of anything but my own lips. I stood proud over the man they all adored. Time took everything I thought made my world right side up away and I wasn’t going to standby and keep saying goodbye.

24 years since then so if you’re just now tuning in; listen to those who have something to say that just don’t sit with you in the right way.

You might not have know then but one day you’ll see the light you were at the end of a dark tunnel, you glimmer of hope you.

Those counselors did their job and in that moment I realized, I was the only one going to get me out of this one. They fired the last counselor who stood up to them. That’s what happens when you take the oath, back your brother no matter what. Truth was, that wasn’t his only gig. So I hatched a plan. Packed my bags. Made sure to say goodbye to the one person I’d miss the most. Mr. Craig you will forever hold a piece of my heart. You saw the light I was through the darkness and saved me from myself. Though life took its time to loop back around, I’m grateful for who you are and that I’m still soaking up your wisdom to this day.

written by Just Rant Already