Letter Number One

{photocredit: unknown}

Dear Mr. Forever,

This is for you, my dear, for I want you to understand how much I already care about you. I want you to realize that at eighteen years old with a cruddy part-time job slaving away at Dollar Tree for $7.25 a hour, I already love you. This may sound strange, because we have never met. But I know that God has already designed our life together :) is that not too cool? I want you to know that although our story has yet to begin, I think about you everyday, and I want you to know that I am impatiently awaiting your arrival. I love you. :)

I'm not going to lie, this will probably not be a day-to-day thing, because I am a slacker and such, but I hope this is special to you regardless.

The main focus of this letter. or blog, or post or whatever you want to call it is the fact that I have cut once again. It's mostly healed now and the majority of it has turned over to a scar, but all the same, it's there. An ocean wave right on my right thigh.

I want to talk to you about this. I want to explain my cutting and all the scars that follow. I have cut a combined total of eighty-seven times in the last two years. Twenty-four scars are still visible to this day. Two are in picture form, two are words, and twenty scars are mere lines.

I think that there would have possibly been a lot more had I not learned how to scar myself until the end.

I want to explain to you the place that I am and was in. I want you to realize that I am truly in a hard spot. I believe that people get sucked into moments and they are unable to escape for some reason. I think this is what is wrong with me now. I was sucked into a moment, and I have allowed myself to stay so long that I have forgotten where the door is, or if there is a door at all. I think that I get so lost in this moment that I feel like I need to cut myself in order to keep from floating away, like cutting has somehow kept me grounded. But now I realize what it is that I need.

Darren Tyler Duncan once told me that if I didn't stop cutting, he couldn't or wouldn't be my friend anymore. He told me that he wasn't going to watch me kill myself. Since that day, I have cut four times.

We're still friends.

I always knew that it would take more than friendship to get me to stop. I took you.

There is a website called sixbillionsecrets.com. And I like to get on and read other people's posts. Sometimes I wonder if I'm reading one of yours. The other day I saw a secret worth sharing, and it made me realize something.

Mom, today when I came home with your name tattooed on my wrist, you told me it was sweet but a bit irrational.
I got your name tattooed so if I ever started cutting myself again, I would be reminded i'm destroying somethign that also belongs to you.
I love you, and you have been the best reason to stop

I cried over this for forever, because I want so badly to tattoo your name on my leg. I want it there to remind me when things get tough and I feel the urge to pick up my knife again, that I am cutting into something that is as much yours as it is mine. That I'm scarring up something that is yours. I want you to know that you are the very best reason for stopping :) I love you.

Love,