Everything Unsaid

If I had known all the things I know now, I wouldn’t be this broken. It hurts so much to be so much for so many. The sleepless nights to the masked days of smiles, laughter, and no remnants of the nights aches. If I had known that I would be my only hero, I wouldn’t have gotten so close to those who would only show that behind their “superhero masks” were devil horns and daggers aimed at me, my heart, and my soul. My walls have become so high that even the version of me you know is just a wall in disguise. Only I know what hides behind the obsidian walls. If I had known that my heart would ache from so much unspoken love and pain, I would’ve never made those connections to which my heart continues to ache for. The flesh would be diamond; hard and beautiful and intact. And though I have a lot of love to give, it seems “too much”; that I am “too much”. If I had known this, I would’ve continued to mold myself into the version of me you wanted from me. The artist, the quiet one, the one with good vibes, the singer, the ballroom dancer, the violinist, the actor, the writer, the smart one, the book nerd, the hopeless romantic, the clumsy one, the broken one…none of those labels ever seemed to be enough. I am perceived perfect. Perfection doesn’t have scars, trauma, triggers, and endless mental and physical issues…but the moment I show that it’s all “too much”. And so this version of me hides it all. I don’t cry. I don’t show the scars. I don’t let anyone see the damage. Instead, I am everything for everyone. I am what I needed for myself. I am what I never had. Just for everyone else. If I had known that none of this would’ve mattered, I wouldn’t have tried. I might’ve even been selfish. But that’s not what everyone wants to hear. They want to hear how good I’m doing in school, how good I am at my creative pursuits, how successful I can be and if I’ll bring them along for the meet and greets, how powerful and wonderful and amazing and kind and caring and selfless and…all the things I am that are picture perfect fitting into their version of reality. If I had known that this would be my reality…I don’t think I would’ve made those choices. So I stick to the books and the fantasies which have never hurt me. But I’m “too delusional” for wanting love instead of an easy fuck. I’m “too delusional” to think anyone would ever put me first. I’m “too delusional” to think that anyone cares. If I didn’t fit the molds they filled me in, I wouldn’t exist to them. Just another face amongst a crowd. If I had known love was conditional, I would’ve chosen to never love anyone. Everyone I’ve ever cared about has hurt me in some way, shape, or form…intentionally or not. If I had known that nothing will fill the void inside, I don’t know where I’d be…I care so much about everyone and everything that it’s all-consuming and so fucking painful. Every cell in my body is fighting the same battle of survival and every year goes by and it continues to get harder and harder with every single thing being thrown my way. Every cell in my body is filled with anxiety that manifests into mania. I have screamed, cried, and destroyed myself in every form of way I can to find some part of me that is at peace. I don’t know how much more I can take. If I had known that I would be saving people and being their inspiration, I would’ve showed them who I was behind the mask and reminded them that I was no hero, but the person that was never saved; never got the happy ending. That’s what villains are after all. To see them see me for who I am would haunt me. I’m not the friend they think I am. I’m not the one who has the best advice. I’m not the one who is the most rational. I’m not the one who can continue to drop everything and support because I am all tapped out. I’ve got nothing more to give and I’m so tired. If I had known it would get to this point, I wouldn’t keep trying or fighting. I was never the first choice. I was always optional. But now I take myself out of the equation. I am no longer an option. If I had known all of this, I don’t know who I’d be right now. It certainly wouldn’t be “me”, but me.