Listen, baby, I know it’s hard.
I know that ‘Sometimes it’s hard to wake up in the morning’ is an understatement. I know you can’t remember the last time you went an entire day without feeling like bursting into tears at least once. I can hear your lip quivering on the phone when you tell me that you’ll feel better tomorrow. I know you aren’t sure whether you even believe yourself when you say it.
I know you’re tired. Life has become a routine of rug burns and nosebleeds. Listen to me. It won’t last. If you hold onto anything, if you give up on all else— it won’t last. Write it on your arm in sharpie. Write it on the walls of your bedroom. Write it on pieces of paper that fall out of your notebooks. It won’t last.
I know you’ve heard the same stale thing from the same stale people for as long as you can remember and just hearing someone say it gets better makes your lip curl. I understand that when you’re too numb to get out of bed and make yourself something to eat, running a mile seems like something you’ll never have the strength to do again. It won’t last.
Don’t you dare give up, little one. Your life isn’t over yet. Shout it to the sky. It won’t last. I’ll shout with you. We’ll shout it until we feel alive again, until we swear the stars are twinkling in agreement. Shout it until hope is all you can taste and the future is all you can see, shout until every man woman and child who also feels like they’ll be sad forever throws open their windows and joins in.
You’ll only find the way out of this darkness if you turn on your flashlight and keep searching. There’s no rescue team, there are no firefighters or princes or superheroes on their way to save you. It’s just you, the fog, and the exit door. You have to keep looking for it, my love, or you’ll never find it.
Listen baby, I know it’s hard. But it won’t last. You have to believe me."