Hello, my name is Angelique. I don’t know why I’ve put my name on tumblr as Angel because no one ever calls me Angel anymore. I suppose I miss it. Just like I miss the friends I’ve made whom I’ve told all my secrets to and they’ve all gone. I miss my mother, reckless as she is, and sometimes I can’t stay in the same room as her without wanting to cry. I miss my father, although he’s too busy chasing his dreams to chase after his broken daughter. He’s in the other room, working, as I cry silently. I miss my happy place. I don’t know where it’s gone and I doubt I’ll ever find it again and if I do, it won’t ever be the same. In a roundabout way, I suppose I miss being happy. Or do I even know what happy is like? I suppose I fear happiness because with every up, there is an equal down and the happier I get, the worse I will feel afterwards and maybe that’s why I feel like a machine. Flatlined emotions and pre-programmed answers to questions I’ve heard far too often. “Are you okay?” “Yes” I think constantly about what if would be like if I didn’t exist. “How are you feeling?” “Fine” I’m slowly going downhill “How did you sleep?” “Good” I cried for hours until I finally fell asleep “Did you eat today?” “Yes” I haven’t eaten in days, except the meals you have watched me eat.
If you read this and think “she’s suicidal, I should help”, thank you but I’m not committing suicide. Firstly, because if I survive, life will be worse for me. Secondly, I don’t have the resources. Thirdly, I have a legacy. My legacy is to help people. And I have dreams I would like to achieve, not that I have the motivation to do any of that, let alone have any interest in getting up every morning. Every day is an immense struggle for me and the only reason I’m still here is to make others happy. I try too hard to get other people to like me and I feel like I’m annoying and pushy but if that person ever needed me, I’d be there at the drop of a hat. I don’t care if I’m happy or not. I don’t care if I am rage incarnate and want to die right there and then. I live to see others smile. True, they might have people they’d turn to who they trust more and I might be at the very bottom of the list of people they’d go to for help but it doesn’t matter to me. If you ask, I’m fine, as long as you are.
I might be filled with a sense of missing for ages but I know if you were gone, I’d miss you the most.
