How to cure sadness, how to be happy, why am I always sad, are some of my google search history. How can I make the pain go away, why am I constantly feeling like this, will I ever be truly happy?.
I started writing not to get published, but for myself. I used to think that by bottling up my every emotion would be easy, it became a habit. Lying to everyone around me that I was okay, when in fact, I wasn’t. Until it actually destroyed me. It literally did.
“Thats the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” – John Green
I write because I have lots of stories to tell – not to brag nor ask for your pity. I write because writing distracts me from my reality. I write because writing takes my pain away. I write because I’ve been hurt, broken and lost. I write because on paper I can express how I feel, when I’m unable to say the words. I write because I feel much more comfortable hiding behind my words than saying them out aloud.
I write because I want to understand the person that is living inside me. I write because that voice inside my head won’t leave me alone. I write about my tragic past, to remember how strong I had to be, and that my every scar has a story to tell. Now, more than ever, I’m lost. I’m more lost than I’ve ever been. Writing is one of the few things that is consistent in my life and I truly believe that as humans, we all need that sometimes.
I write because I’m scared. I’m terrified. I write because writing allows me to escape reality, and create a world that I want to be in. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write because I am in love with the world that I’ve created inside my head. I write because there is a story behind every smile, every laugh, every tear and every heartbreak.
I write because writing allows me to be anyone that I want to be. I have the ability to control how my story starts and ends. I get to erase certain pieces and rewrite them. I get to decide the drama, tragedy, loss, love and adventure. I write to dream, I write to connect with strangers, to meet new people and to connect with others who I might never had any contact with otherwise. And maybe, find those who might be like me. I write because I’m afraid of being alone. I write to know that I am not alone.
I write because I know that I can’t control life but, at least I can control my version. I write about my present because I’m still confused and trying to figure out how to survive it. I write about my future, because I can write it exactly the way I wish it could be.
I write about the people I love who are no longer alive. I write to keep them alive. I write about the conversations that I couldn’t have and the ones that I wish that I had. I write about what life would be like if there were still alive today. I write not because I miss them, but because I hope it helps me find myself. I write because after grief, now, I see the world from a different point of view. I write about them not because I’m constantly living in pain. I’m not anymore, but in my world, this is my normal and I would rather live honestly and out aloud. I write because love, happiness and gratefulness are my every day, but so are death, loss, heartache and grief. I write about them not because I am stuck or because I haven’t moved on, but because I am theirs and they are mine and no passing of time will ever change that.
I write because writing has allowed me to discover things about myself that I never knew. I write about a love that I’m still searching for. I write what I’m looking for. I write what I hope it would be like. I write because my writing keeps my nightmares away and saves me from my reality that I wish to so desperately escape. I write because writing comes from the heart.
I write a lot. The more I write the more my life and this world makes sense to me. I write to heal. I write to be remembered. I write to express myself; I write because I can. I write because I truly believe that maybe someday, I have the ability to control how my story ends. And maybe not now, but someday it will be okay.