This is written by my best friend Tejasvi Reddy, if you think she should write more and have a personal blog, please vote on this.
Trapped. Helpless. Suffocating. Thats how she felt everyday. Is it even normal to feel like this? She thought. She couldn’t help it. Slitting her wrist was an outlet for her. But not anymore. She had her walls built high. Too afraid to let people in. She starts her day with a smile hoping it would end with a smile. But no. Life doesn’t work that way, right? Its like hoping is a crime. According to her hoping should be made illegal. But thats what is keeping her alive. Hoping things will get better. Hoping she will be happy for real. Hoping for a miracle to happen. But let me tell you,she isn’t weak. If you have to define strong, just say out her name. Walking with a magnificent smile,she can light up your day. But who is going to light up hers?
Pain. Its a common feeling to humans. But she doesn’t feel it anymore. Numbness. Is what she feels. She didn’t want to believe in miracles. But thats what is keeping her alive. Between these trapped walls of hers the only ray of light for her is dance. She moves like feather. With complexion as fair as snow,eyes as deep and blue as a sea, she screams joy.
When you’re around certain people, you can feel certain vibes. Some give you comfort, some trouble. But her, she screams home. No matter what the situation is, she screams home. She give you that comfort. That vibe that everything is going to be okay. And you know you can share anything with her. She will be the wall you will want to lean on. But can we do the same with her? No. And that is the difference between her and the world.
Scrutinize her. Look deep. See through her happy facade. All you can see is pain. You can hear a voice that silently screams help.
With every word of yours, your hurting her. Making her feel lonely. Every word and action is like a knife. Piercing deep into her heart.
Ruin her how much ever you want to. But she will still stand strong.But at the end of the day all she that is left for her are tears.