If You Could Read This;

If you could read this, you would think that I am crazy and would shake your head at me, like everyone else. But, I can relate to you. The six scars on your face, however, is what sets you and me apart. There is the gender, hair colour and height as well, I guess. But, the loneliness, I know that. Not having anyone from the start; it’s difficult isn’t it? It drags you down into the darkness, and it feels safe. So you put on a mask and act happy, and you try to make friends; to hide the loneliness. Gradually, people get used to you, they end up being friendly. They stop remembering about the beast that is in you and start seeing you as a crazy and outgoing person that gets along with everyone. But is that how you really feel? Your eyes tell another story. All the things you had to endure; I feel it as if it was happening to me, all over again. Someone actually gets close to you, didn’t they? They became your friend and comrade, but you weren’t going to admit it. It wouldn’t last. But you prevailed and you both shared a similar pain; you were both alone but it was a different lonely. No one wanted you but everyone wanted him. You wanted to be him; you would’ve wished anything to be given that sort of chance. It’s sick and twisted, what you wish for; but you would prefer it to your loneliness. His was the loneliness of having lost everything, for you, because you never had it. It hurts so much more; but you never let on. You held it inside and got on with life, and played the part of a person that has no troubles. But then it happened, just like you thought it would. You got close to him and in turn you are burned. He leaves, even after you beg him not to. I don’t know how you pushed past it, perhaps it is because you are only a character in a story that someone wrote; but I know that I wouldn’t have been able to. I didn’t. I got lost in my own world. So, that’s how I came to be here; writing you this note telling you I know what it’s like; not that it matters of course. But it’s just so hard at times to stand alone. So I wonder; what is behind your pretty blue eyes? Is it the pain I have or is there some strength left? My eyes are grey now, there isn’t much life in them; but yours; they are still vibrant, still holding onto life. May I sit here in the shadows and question everything. I guess I won’t get an answer; but there is the far off chance, in my deranged mind; that this will help. It’s not like anyone will read it, but, the only thing I have left is loneliness. I’m not losing the one thing I have left; I don’t want to go back to feeling nothing at all. But the mask is cracking and souls are invading. I don’t know how much longer I can stay. I wish to leave and remain with my loneliness forever, and we can both meet someone to hold us in their arms gently, like we are precious and loved. I look forward to that day of meeting that person; death. To be held in such a forgiving embrace. But, to whom this is written too, I hope you find someone in life. I guess that’s it for final words, I can’t do much better without my vision blurring so much that I can’t read what I’m typing. Is this the ending I wanted? No, but it’s better than what I had.