Diary of a Queen

She so young, and so sweet. She’s quick to make a joke and always laughing at something or nothing at all. Bubbly, funny, insanely intelligent, and the cutest little thing you’d see. But that’s what she wants you to see. Because on the inside she’s crying, fading to black, faster than anyone could ever imagine. She shows you what she wants you to see. She wants everything about her to look perfect. But its not. It hasn’t been for a long time now; almost never. One little girl, one little soul has seen and lived through so much in so few years. How can one little girl be so strong for so long? How can she be expected to find her way out of all that the world has thrown on top of her? She’s been buried alive for longer than she ever remembers. No one has really tried to help her. No one has opened their eyes, or their arms, or their hearts to her. And she knows this. It’s no wonder she finally broke. She just snapped. No warning, no explanation. Just shut down. The signs were their all along. In her own way she’s tried to reach out for help. But the words never came forward, not in a way that anyone else interpreted as a cry for help. They heard her voice, but the never heard the message. They couldn’t miss the message though when she stopped talking. No one was listening anyway, right? At least that’s how she sees it. So she stops talking, but she keeps cutting. All the while she was smiling and laughing, she was cutting. It kept the real pain at bay. It keeps her in her own reality, keeps her in control of the little she has control over. Even now, now that they have locked her away to ‘help her’, she’s still in control. She’s not cutting, but she not talking either.

I see so much in her. I saw a beautiful spirit in her from the moment I met her. I knew she was something special; I just didn’t know how much. I saw a lot of myself in her before I knew what I know now, and now that I know, I see even more of me. She reached out to me just a tiny bit not so long ago, and I grabbed her hand, not knowing at some point in the near future I would need to grab so much more than just her hand. She needed me to grab onto her, onto all of her to maybe, hopefully keep her afloat just one more day. Somehow, someway I reached her. Day by day, she told me a tiny bit and I told her a little bit. For some reason that is above my understanding she trusts me, she listens to me, and she knows I am listening to her. She won’t talk to me now; she still won’t talk to anyone at all. But she communicates with me and only me. We communicate all day, morning through night and she’s shared so much with me. She’s so torn; she wants to be better, but she doesn’t want to hurt anymore. And I can only pray I can help her find a middle ground because I’m the only one she trusts. There’s no way I could leave her. Not now and not like this. I don’t know when or how or what, but I no that she needs someone, if only one single person to stick by her side. No one else is listening to her, but I am. I just pray the day doesn’t come where there is nothing for me to listen to.