From: Me
To: Ethan Crawford <Ethan.Crawford@gmail.com>
Subject: You okay?
you said you were going to come around but did something happen? we waited all afternoon, plus evening. the trains came but you didn't.
i'm really worried something happened. what do you have a phone for if i can't reach you????
From: Ethan Crawford
To: Me
Subject: I'm sorry.
Something came up. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you guys that I couldn't come. I didn't have the opportunity to get to a computer and my phone is broke.
I should've said something earlier but I couldn't.
From: Me
To: Ethan Crawford <Ethan.Crawford@gmail.com>
Subject: it's alright.
don't be sorry and tell me what happened instead. please?
From: Ethan Crawford
To: Me
Subject: It's all so wrong.
I didn't mean to come back up. I didn't mean to disappear forever, either. I don't know what I wanted, I just did it. I was hoping I'd find release from the pain but I also realized that I actually wanted to stay alive.
But you don't get what you want. You always have to decide. You either live with pain or not at all. Right?
I feel lost. I always do. It's like everyone else around me knows how to be happy and they know exactly what their life is about and who or what they live for ... and I'm the only one who has no idea what I'm doing and why I'm here.
People never stay, right? They come and change you and then just leave as if you should be alright being by yourself now. But I don't know anything. I needed them to keep me strong. I needed them, not only for a short period of time until I was eventually going to be fine by myself.
I know I'll never be. Because I'm lost. I don't know where I belong, I don't know what to do or where to go.
Do you know how mad it makes me here? I actually decided to come to this place. Where else am I going to go? But it drives me crazy. I knew I wasn't okay. I knew I wasn't alright. But this... this place proves to me that I'm too weak to get through it on my own. And that my demons are too strong to handle.
They all want to help me. Don't they realize that they can't?
I'm not sick. I'm sad. Terribly sad. This is not a disease, this is a feeling.
Why do they keep treating it like a disease? I can take hundreds of these anti-depressants but my problems would still be here.
If they really wanted to help, I suggest they bring my parents back together, alive. I suggest they bring my sister back so I can still go bowling with her and get annoyed at the mall because she always takes so freaking long. I suggest they give my best friend another chance at life, too. A happy one where he would've never thought of taking his life. I suggest they help me be content with myself. I suggest they do something about this all rather than suppressing my emotions, hoping that my problems will one day be - POOF - gone.
Don't they know it won't work?