I despised the spark in the pit of my stomach that made me skip a breath. The ache in the core of my heart made me want to scream. More than anything, I could not stand the emptiness within me that I felt every day. Those reactions could have been easily triggered by even the smallest rejection. It could squeeze the form of my ribs until my head went dizzy and I pleaded for it to all go away. When I finally thought the sparks and the aches fled; they crept back like monsters hiding under my bed. The only difference was that soon, they did not go away when I turned on the lights.

I felt more pain on the inside than I could explain. The only close comparison to it is being sick : you do not want to be around anyone, you cannot bare to look at yourself, and you cannot remember being well. I hated myself. As far as I was concerned, I was just surviving every day waiting for it all to end. There was nothing to look forward to; no future in store for me. I began acting foolishly, as if I was trappd in a nightmare just trying to wake up.

I spent the majority of my time sleeping. I could close my eyes and allow my mind to wander through forgetful dreams far away from the life I dreaded. It was my escape. I never imagined growing old. I just wanted to find a way out, a way for it all to end. I had given up on the idea of hope and happiness.

The rest of my time was spent with people who I did those foolish things with. These were the people I trusted and confided in. These were the people that hurt me the most. I was betrayed, used and lied to. I knew that none of them could be trusted, but I had nothing to lose.

I have always been afraid of letting people to close to me. I almost assume that everyone is going to hurt me in the end, so I push them all away. I let in the people that are no good for me, and turn away the ones that are. I missed out on a lot of opportunites because of that.

Before I decided to runaway from my problems, I wrote out a few notes to my dad. All of the letters turned into apologizes though. I tried to say how I was sorry that I was going to leave him, and that I loved him very much. I wanted him to have them, as some sort of explaination to what I was planning to do. He was all that mattered to me, but could not overpower my saddness.

Despite how I continuosly tried to wake myself up from this nightmare, I did not do anything worth regretting. I was always smart, even though I lacked common sense. It is as though I was battling against myself, seeing how far I would let myself go. I subconsiously did not want to do anything unfixable in case it really did count. That was when I decided it was not my time to say goodbye.

I sat my dad down, and tried to tell him what was going on with me. I was so suprised at how easily it spilled out. Before I knew it I was crying and it felt so good. It was like the whole time my tears were stored up inside me just waiting to dance down my cheeks. I noticed how my dad's eyes were filled with pain, and it occured to me that he had no idea how I had been feeling. Instead of lecturing me, or sending me away - he saved me. He defeated my monsters and talked to me until the rest of the world did not make me hurt so bad. It was the best medicine.

That part of my life seems so far away now, as if it too was one of my forgotten dreams. I try to remember the experience though, because it changed me. I have a new appreciation for my life, and want to dedicate it for good. I realized how close I came to missing out on so much. I found a purpose in my life. I want to travel the world, and help people. I want to fall in love, and hopefully get married someday. I want to surrounded myself with people I care about, and in turn care about me. I want to laugh until I cry, and live everyday in search of the joy I know exists - because I deserve it. I love me.