A Letter To Myself

            I wrote myself a letter because I felt that no one really understands me except myself. I try to communicate, but the only person who actually listens is myslef. I have waited for help from others but it hasn’t arrived, I guess, the only person I can expect help from is, myself. 



Dear Pedro, 

            I can see what you are going through. I can almost feel it. You left social media. Deleted Facebook. Never post on Snapchat and have grown distant with your friends. They must not understand, but I do. I see how every morning it’s hard for you to get up. To face another day with problems. It seems like you can’t get a break. Don’t give up. 

            I understand you have no money. You can barely afford to keep the fridge stocked up for your family. How do people expect you to go out? And have fun? When you could use that money to pay bills and buy food. Survive. No one sees that, but I do. Don’t give up. 

          When I ask if everything is ok, you always say yes. But I know that’s not true. I ask again, surprised you look at me and tell me the truth. No one has asked you twice. No one asks for the truth. They only want to hear “ok” and “fine” to get on with their lives. But I care. I want to know. I can’t fix it, but I can lend my support. If you don’t want to talk we can just sit in silence. I know how sometimes you want to be alone, but not feel alone. Don’t give up. 

            I can see how sometimes you can’t even cry because you see no use in that, you just want it all to stop. But wait, think about your family. Your mother and brother. You have to stay and look after them. Who else will? Don’t give up. 

            I know that your mom has cancer. I’m sorry. Life has treated you very unfairly. Your going to lose your job due to a work permit that has yet to arrive. I know, life is hard. Don’t give up. 

            With all the problems you have, I won’t ask you to come and have fun. I know you can’t. I know that when you go out all you think about is your problems. The how’s? And the why’s? Don’t give up. 

            You can’t focus on anything else. So then I’ll ask you what you want to do. What will help? I’ll give you a warm hug just so you know I feel your pain. I’ll tell you it will get better. That it will be ok. You will respond in a negative way. Saying how it’s not, and I don’t understand. But I do, so I’ll say, “even if it doesn’t, I’ll be there by your side.” That will put a smile on your pale face, no one has ever said that to you before. Don’t give up. 

            I know each day gets harder. I know each hour drags on by. I know every minute is excruciating. I know every second air seems to get thinner and it’s difficult to breathe. Don’t give up. 

            I know how many times you have thought about it. Don’t do it. I know it seems like the only way out. Don’t do it. I know the reasons why you would want to. Don’t do it. Don’t give up. 

Even though you want to do it really bad, and sometimes you are on the edge, hanging on for dear life, and you might think that there is no turning back, I plead and beg you, just don’t give up

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