I won’t try to say that I understand what you’re going through because, honestly, you’re the only one who knows exactly how you’re feeling. But I can try to understand you, in my own way, in a feeble attempt to delicately unravel the mess that you’ve been living in for months, maybe years.
I’ll try to understand how, year after year, month after month, you try to change your own mind about things you’ve already made your mind about, but you feel so completely engulfed in your own self-doubt that you won’t let yourself get out of the maze because you’re so used to running into dead-ends and exits that just lead you to the same way you just crossed(came? “crossed” implies a street here, and it seems like you want to be general).
I’ll try to understand how you crave new beginnings, brand new (fresh? “Brand new” and “start-overs” emphasizes a massive need for “new” here; I get it if that’s the artistic effect you were going for here, i.e. exaggeration) start-overs, but they scare you so much because endings completely break you and you don’t think you have the energy to pick up the pieces anymore, and I’ll try to understand how you’re getting used to living behind a million walls because that’s the only way in your mind that you’re going to survive this apocalypse of a life.
I’ll try to understand your attempts at starting over again and again and again, but you’re stuck on the same people that still haunt you with the memories that mean so much only to you. I’ll try to understand how you quietly try to solve unsolvable problems by yourself because of something someone once said; you feel like you’re troubling or annoying them if you ask for help or advice. (this bit after “;”)
I’ll try to understand how you cover your mouth so nobody hears you crying, or how you repeatedly whisper, “I won’t cry” over and over just because you convinced yourself that other people aren’t worth your tears and you want to show how strong you are now that you don’t cry about everything and anything. I’ll try to understand how you let it go when you’re alone in your room, turn up the music and cry in its comforting arms.
I’ll try to understand how you protect the things you love to do, or songs you love to sing or dance to, or favourite books you love to read over and over again because, once people cut you off, they condescendingly make fun of those things and that hurts you because they attacked you for what you love so you now protect the things you love from others too. I’ll try to understand how, instead of being afraid of it all, you started to hate these people and everything, and the world just became a place for you that you wanted no part of but still wanted a place in, a place where only a few people are allowed, where you can breathe after breaking your own walls.
I’ll try to understand how you feel when you’re all alone, even if you’re with your friends and family, and you’re scared of loving it because sometimes you start to hate it too. I’ll try to understand things you don’t want anyone to understand. I’ll try to understand you.
You’ll ask why, you’ll turn your face away, you’ll purse your lips. You want to be left alone because nobody can understand you but yourself, right? But I want to. No, I won’t give up even if I encounter a part of you that I cannot possibly even fathom to understand. I’ll accept it anyway. It’s you and you’re the most beautiful puzzle. I don’t want to solve you, I want to love you. I want to tell you that you’re worthy of love and acceptance even if I can’t understand you.
You’re not lost, because I’ll always keep searching for you. You’re not incomplete, because you complete me. You’re not insufficient, because you’re ENOUGH for me, for everyone in the world who matters. Please don’t forget that. Please don’t forget there’s someone like me who thinks this of you. Please don’t forget yourself.