The luxury of breathing

I apologise.

I’m sorry that when this avalanche called my life caved in, you were knocked down just because you happened to be there at the wrong time.
I’ll try next time to be a little more patient with you.
But recently, the world outside has raped and ravaged and left me for the flies and frankly, I’m too tired for self-preservation, too tired to be nice, to be proper, to be polite.

So if I leave you angry, hurt and confused, I apologise in advance.
It’s just that so many have sucked the marrow from my bones already. I’m hollowed.
I’m sorry.

You were sitting in class next to me, so quiet; so unlike you. You were so worried, so.. afraid.
But at this point, I don’t have enough leftover for someone to take another piece.
I know you’re trying to reach out to me. But I don’t want that. Please, I can’t handle that.
I only want your friendship, I’m so sorry I can’t give you more.

But I’m not all to blame. You tried to take it one step further, even after me telling you not to. You called me - too many times. I don’t like being pressured. I don’t like being crowded. I need my space.
You tried to control me. And that was your mistake.
You see, I’ve already dealt with a psychotic male (for far too long has he been in my life), I don’t want to go through that again. I know you’re not like him.
But your mannerisms triggered something deep within me. An instinct I can’t control. I snapped at you.
And now I’m standing in the ashes of the aftermath.

And no this is not an attempt to play on your sympathies.

I don’t like people telling me what to do and how I should be. Especially when they don’t know a single thing about me. Yes, you don’t.

On the surface, the waters are placid.
Every now and again, I’ll allow for the occasional ripple to rise. But these are really potential tidal waves carefully repressed.
At times I’m drowning, but never to the point of relinquishment.
You see that resilence (instigated by my father - and no he’s not a good person) resuscitates me. That and the warmth and love of a few close friends.

Then there’s this separate issue of almost single-handedly keeping things in order around the house. Of not letting any of us sink.
This madness continues and I barely have time (or maybe I’m just afraid to) to indulge myself, have a social life do whatever that’s normal.
No, this is definitely not what I signed up for.
This never-ending responsibility, an inherited burden that I couldn’t shake even if I tried. I wouldn’t be able to walk from, without feeling guilty for the rest of my life.

So here are my advanced derivatives:
I will never be able to tell all of this to you directly because it’s much too personal.
I will bounce back in my usual fashion. I know I will.
But also remember, this strong woman that’s got it all under control, is no less than the average human being, only capable to taking so much at one time. And on days like this, even the girl with her head screwed on straight needs to be able to make mistakes, needs to be able to not be polite and not always think about making the other person feel comfortable.
I just need to be reminded to breathe
Because not everyone, my dear friend,
Has this luxury.