Dear Me

Dear Me,
You don’t know me, but I know all about you. Yes, rather enigmatic, isn’t it? I know your every waking thought, every dream you’ve ever had. I see each flicker of your eyes, each minute twitch of your fingers. I’m always there, in your joy and sorrows, your anger and jealously. I’m with you when you’re surrounded by friends; I’m there when you’re alone. Conscience, soul, shadow – what does it matter to me? You’re you, I’m you; I’m a part of you, that’s all there is to it. Without you, I don’t exist.
- A Stranger.

Dear Me,
I considered writing “Dear You”, but decided not to. “You” means someone. Someone besides me. “You” can be singular, it can be collective. I’m too lonely for that. So I guess it’s just “Me” then.
- Lonesome.

Dear Me,
You’re wondering why I’m talking to you. It does get very lonely here, with just me. You can’t even begin to imagine what a burden this is. These dark secrets are suffocating, and I only have so much capacity for it. It’s too much, but there’s no one to talk to, no one to tell secrets. You don’t know me, therefore my secrets are safe. Do I even exist in your eyes? I tell, but no one knows.
- Burdened.

Dear Me,
Congratulations. Your joy is exhilarating, intoxicating. It makes me giddy with pleasure. It’s times like this that makes it worth living. Your friends and family crowd around you, but somehow I remain isolated. I celebrate with you, but a part of me yearns to have your lot. Wishful thinking, it can never be. But take no notice of me, I do dampen your spirits. Go, revel in it, be free.
- A Well-wisher.

Dear Me,
Patience, my friend. Remember the good things; your joy, her joy. Restrain yourself. Giving your anger free reign will bring you nothing but shame and regret.
- An Advisor.

Dear Me,
I did tell you not to…
- Your Conscience.

Dear Me,
You’re not alone. Nobody hears you, but I do. No, don’t do that. Yes, that’s it, calmly now. I see your shoulders wreaked with sobs, hear your silent screams. You’re not alone, I feel it too.
- A Friend.

Dear Me,
Why is it so dark?
- Confused.

Dear Me,
What’s happening?!
- Terrified.

Dear Me,
Oh no, oh no, oh no. Stop. Please. Make it stop. Please, please, please, let it end.
- Suffering.

Dear Me,
Enough! Your grief is no excuse for this. Take yourself out of exclusion, go among comforting arms. Why do you reject them? Do you really think this is better? You think you have it bad? You scream, you snarl, you rage. You vent your frustration, you hurt. I only wish I could scream, it would bring such relief from the pain. But I have no voice. None to sing with, none to unburden my sorrows and secrets with, and now, none to scream with.
- Agonized.

Dear Me,
Death would be better than this pain. Better than what you’re doing to yourself. I would have said no. I would have said go on. Life is more precious than that. I would have. I don’t. Not with this pain you’re subjecting me to. I was already on the edge when I turned to you for solace. I was hanging off a cliff. You offered me a hand, and I grasped for it. You were my lifeline, my salvation. Instead, you pushed me off.
- Longing for peace.

Dear Me,
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