How do you mend what makes you imperfect? I once read: “Stop bearing others’ pain; it’s not your burden.” On days when your demons dance before your eyes, and you feel trapped within your own skin, when screams echo in your mind— that’s when you should let it all go. It shouldn’t always be you rebuilding walls from ashes. Who’s left to heal the wounds of others. Who will gather every paralyzing moment of chaos and tuck them away. Learn to draw boundaries.
Dearest Aku; I have learned a lot since you left. You shattered my heart, but still, I have learned to be kind to others and to empathize with their pain, for I now understand the feeling of being unloved, disrespected—not cared for, and kept in the dark. I know how words can hurt and pierce the soul, leaving a void. Your absence has taught me the torment, the suffering—the misery of realizing the extent of emotional damage from being left alone to deal with things. I never realized how terrible it was until you failed to respond to all fourteen of my previous letters, written to you with love. I have trained my mind to be stronger than my emotions, and I will never be the reason someone endures the agony of rejection.