44

by Violet

Let me be honest with you. Can I be honest with you? When was the last time someone spoke honestly to you? Do people even know the meaning of honesty any more?

I want to tell you that I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I don’t have any answers. That can’t be surprising. You’ve seen the way I live my life. If you can even call it living. Is there a difference between living and surviving? Probably, but you only hear that from the survivors. Not everyone is lucky enough to survive. 

There are things I want to tell you. Things you ought to know. But if you haven’t figured it out by now it would be pointless to explain them to you. You wouldn’t understand, not if I had to explain them to you. There are things you just know. Realities that I can’t teach you, because even if I tried, you wouldn’t believe me. 

I’m not as lonely as I seem. I have my shadow to guide me. It keeps me company, and swallows the smoke before they can catch me. It’s not the taste, it’s the power. The power to control your own fate. To flirt with death, tease the unknown, pretend you’re unafraid, even if you’re shaking. 

You think the sadness will last forever, but it doesn’t.
You think you’ll always feel this way, but you won’t.
You think you won’t make it to tomorrow, but you do.
You think you’ve survived the worst, but it’s just the beginning.

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