The Letter

 Dear Mel,

I don’t even know where to start. I’m exhausted physically, emotionally, in ways I don’t have words for. I feel like I’m drowning, but somehow, I’m still expected to smile, to function, to pretend like everything is fine. It’s not fine. I am not fine. And I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending.

I tell myself to leave, to walk away from this pain, but my feet won’t move. My heart still clings to the idea that maybe, just maybe things will change. That he will change. That love will start to feel like love instead of control, instead of manipulation, instead of a slow, draining loss of myself. But deep down, I know the truth. I am not loved the way I deserve to be. And yet, I stay. And yet, I hope. And yet, I break a little more each day.

I feel trapped. By fear, by loneliness, by the awful thought that maybe this is the best I’ll ever get. That if I leave, no one will ever love me again. That I will disappear, and the world won’t even notice. And if that’s true, then what’s the point?

But… what if it’s not true? What if there is more for me than this? What if I am not meant to spend my life being diminished, yelled at, controlled? What if I am stronger than I think?

I don’t have the answers yet. I don’t know if I have the strength to walk away today, tomorrow, or even next week. But I want to believe just a little that I deserve better. That my life means something. That even if I don’t feel it now, there is still hope somewhere, waiting for me to find it.

I don’t want to feel this way forever. And maybe, just maybe, I won’t.

Mel.