Du fehlst hier - You are missed here
Three -almost four- years ago, I wrote a letter. It didn't take me long at all. A few sentences I barely had to think about, and a painting that could not have taken me longer then 5 minutes. After a short while, I had completely forgotten it's content. Maybe it's existence as well.
That was until a few hours ago. Today was one of those days. A day where, I wonder why I bother taking antidepressants because I didn't feel like they made a difference. A day on which, I woke up once again feeling miserable, unmotivated and stupid. Laying in a bed that is lover and jailer at the same time. Numb with everything, except the anger I feel towards myself. In short, a day where it's just easier to forget the world outside my apartment. And yet I couldn't, I had plans today. Plans I could not be allowed to cancel, since I already did so previously. Twice.
So after fighting myself tooth and nail, I went to dinner with my friend Irene.
She was at the restaurant an hour before me. Reading a book and enjoying some (according to her) mediocre coffee. I had run out of cigarettes and a stabbing pain in my abdomen, since my irregular menstrual cycle decided to strike today. Still my mood lifted. Seeing her sitting there, I remembered something:
I do love Irene dearly.
We said our hellos and sat down. Our conversation flowed and, at some point, touched upon literature; as it always does with us two. She drew my attention towards the book she was reading. Told me about it, and assured me that, she would lend it to me after she had finished. Then she showed it to me, her favorite bookmark. A folded piece of paper with two colourful chickens on it. Chickens I had drawn ages ago, on a five lined letter, that I had put barely any effort into. A letter I forgot I wrote and one amongst many. I said as much. She told me how she treasures all my letters, but this one especially.
She treasures me.
Maybe I can't love myself right now. My hateful thoughts and feelings don't simply vanish. They are here, for now. But so is the knowledge that I am loved, continually. Tomorrow could be as bad as today, could even be worse. Yet as long as I can reach out I will be fine.