Let me tell you a story about a girl. A story about a girl with hope. Hope, you might think, can never be trusted. But in this story, hope is saving lives.
You see, this girl didn't have much to contend with. She didn't have much to offer. Despite all the love and warmth circulating inside her, she couldn't seem to find people willing to accept the love she was trying to give. People always seemed to push her away. She didn't understand why everyone around her decided to leave, or why she didn't find the strength to fight for them to stay.
She thought it was impossible to love her thoughts and made a point out of this every sleepless night. If only she had realized that she could've given all this love to herself, perhaps her life would've been so much easier. But her life was not easy.
On the contrary. Her life had become difficult to live. The weight she carried on her back made it so hard for her to breathe. She felt suffocated. Not only by her own mind but also by everyone else's opinions on her life.
The way everyone around her tried to push her to do more. As if what she already did wasn't enough. People around her started to question her purpose to breathe. They acted as if breathing wasn't enough, but she knew that breathing would always be enough. She knew that as long as she continued to breathe, she would be fine.
It was dizzying listening to all these questions thrown at her. Why don't you get a second job? Why don't you go out more? Why do you look so tired all the time? You should definitely wear some makeup, or else no one gonna notice you. What are you studying anyways? Are you planning on moving out anytime soon or getting married?
She felt so hopeless. She felt so alone. It seemed like no matter what she did, she never did enough. She wasn't enough. She couldn't seem to satisfy the people around her, despite how good she was at satisfying And she had held on to this hope to the people who actually tried to make an effort to keep her close. A person who couldn't find the meaning of life. There were nights she felt so low, so tired from fighting this silent battle with herself, and the only person she managed to turn to for help was the monsters hiding under her bed.
The monsters in the darkness that despite the fear they inflicted on her, gave her a sense of calmness. A sense of security she hadn't been able to feel with anyone else. A sense of understanding. She was trapped in her own suffering, but she didn't seem to mind. She felt understood. The darkness never judged her for carrying the thoughts she carried. Rather, they helped her and tried to get her to act on them.
But the girl knew she was stronger than that. She knew she could put her foot down the second the pain tried to take over. When depression tried to define who she was. The girl knew she had the strength to resist. Because the girl had something powerful. She had something not many people were able to carry with them into the darkness.
She had hope. And she had held on to this hope even when the demons puked self-hatred into her veins. Even when the darkness had found a way to comfort her when she was at her most vulnerable. She couldn't say she had much, but she knew she had her hope. She refused to let that slip. She refused to accept its request to leave. She clung to it, with every fiber in her body, and she begged it to save her.