I thought disappearing was what I wanted,
To waste away into nothingness
I thought to cease existing meant to cease suffering.
So I shrunk.
I withered away. I Isolated.
I withdrew into the familiar pain.
A tumbled into the comfortable darkness.
As much as I sometimes still wish I could vanish,
I realize now that ceasing to exist also means to ceasing to live. Ceasing to love. Ceasing joy or happiness or laughter.
It means closing the door on the hope of there ever being a better tomorrow.
To disappear would mean completely cutting out the possibility of a life different than what I’m living.
So I’m no longer vanishing.
I hope to one day be filled with the desire to show myself to the world. The world I’ve wanted to disappear from for so long.
I hope I’ll be able to prevent others from losing themselves as well.
The world needs more of us.
Those who’ve learned what it truly means to exist.