Dear Friends or Former Friends,
I love you- each and every one of you. But I feel that there are some things about me you must know.
While the self-confident and business driven Fairen is often what you see, you fail to see the other half of the peach. If you were to flip the ripe peach over, you would see all the dents and bruises I bear; all of the events that make me who I am good and bad.
I wish I could show you more. I long to show you this side but my life has taught me not to trust which makes it hard to do what I know is right.
I wish I could tell you how introverted I am and that the outlandish extroversion you see is something I learned. I wish I could tell you how much I prefer for you to dominate the conversation while I sit and listen. And though it may seem that I do not care or am not responsive, I am always listening and watching.
I wish you would come to me more often and tell me about your trials and triumphs for they are not burdens to me.
There is yet another part you need to know. The awkward silences are not awkward to me- I actually love them. Yet, because you are extroverts, I do notice how uncomfortable it makes you feel. I am sorry.
Dear friend, all I ever desire from you is your acceptance and trust.
I have a lot of bruises and so do you.
I wish I could show you how deep my depression goes only to rise within the next second. I wish I could tell you how many times I have thought of exiting this world only to hear God say that I’m not finished. I wish I could tell you how truly tired I am and have you hold me just for one minute.
It’s not you that holds me back from saying these things but me. My life has informed me that no one cares and that vulnerability will be used against me.
I know that it’s not true but a part of me still believes it. I’m sorry to be this way.
I struggle day in and day out- much like you but each day keeps arriving so I must keep living.
Dear friends, these are the things I wish I could tell you but I simply can’t.
It’s not you and it’s not your wrongdoing that prevents me from saying this to you- I just can’t for some odd reason.
But I want you to know that I love you and that I am a bruised peach. You, too, are a bruised peach and that is what I love about you. I love your messed up life and how you are able to keep on living in spite of it.