Boxes

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Close your eyes and imagine that you are in a box.

This box is filled with dirt, it is as tall as you times two, and is as wide as you times three, the boxes faces are made of glass, but beyond the box is nothing.

You are frightened, you are scared.

Don't be, everyone is in a box, everyone. At the moment the box may feel empty, scary, and intimidating, but you tell yourself that there's a way out. You tell yourself that there's a way out because you believe this, but you are wrong. There is absolutely positively no way out of this box, as much as you think there is there isn't. There's no escaping this feeling of emptiness, there's no escaping this feeling of confusion and worthlessness. You have to face the fact that you are trapped and you will be stuck in this box until death do you part.

Some nights the box is darker than others, some nights you don't want to be in the box anymore, scratch that, you don't want to be anywhere anymore, you don't want to see that ray of tomorrow, but you can't stop time. You are tired, you're tired of being alone, you're tired of feeling this way every night, you're tired of this stupid worthless good for nothing box.

And that's okay.

Right when you're about to give up you see something in the oblivion, you see another box, this box holds the purest person you've ever seen. You stay up at night wanting to see the smallest ray just so you can catch another glimpse at them, another glimpse at someone named Hope. Hope can't find you, but you are very determined to find Hope. You plant flowers in the dirt of the box. The dirt gets under your nails, in your eyes, and stays in your head, but without this you can't plant flowers. You know that you won't find Hope, and Hope won't find you, but you try anyways.

    You're almost at the top of your box, and you've planted a garden in the dirt, but when you wake up, Hope is gone, you've lost Hope. The flowers in your garden slowly die, and you don't see a point in taking care of them, why take care of something that's going to die anyways? The box suffocates the flowers and takes Hope with it, you are left with nothing but one flower. You lay by this flower, and it seems to never give up on you, no matter how bad you mess up the flower keeps growing. The flower has become the new symbol of Hope until it is no longer a flower, it becomes a beautiful cherry blossom tree. You look at your tree and see that

Hope is never lost.

    Soon grass starts to grow around the tree and you forget about the box, you are so in love with Hope that you forget that you thought it was lost. Sure dirt patches come here and there, but that wasn't your fault, it was just another place to plant flowers. The box is beautiful and so are you, it doesn't matter whether you're tall or short, fat or thin, a girl or a boy, we're all in boxes, we all have flowers that wilt, but sadly not all of us wait to find a tree. We throw dirt in others boxes, because we ourselves have too much, but if we have none, where would we plant flowers? It takes a special person to come around and say Yes, I am alone, yes I am depressed, yes I am scared and I can't find a way out right now, but some day, some glorious day I will find hope, because hope is not lost or dead in any sense,

Hope is saved.

(Feel free to comment if you have any idea what this story is about I don't actually care if you didn't get it, if anyone needs an explanation just say so, not like anyone'll read this anyways.)

Stay alive;