I was driving, Virginia Beach to the North Carolina border and back. I had no idea where I was going, I just knew that I needed to keep going or my world was going to stop turning.

It started off as an errand run, that turned into a two hour car ride with the music turned up so loud, I couldn’t hear my thoughts telling me to swerve off of the road.

That’s how it always starts. A normal day, I’m out with my family or my boyfriend, getting lunch or shopping, and one minute we are laughing, joking, carrying on a normal conversation and the next minute – my thoughts are reminding me of how little I matter.

How I don’t matter to them, I don’t matter to anyone. How no matter what I try, it’s not enough. That the way I was being treated, was deserved, no matter how cruel.

And I’m sucked out of my own body, floating above everything that is going on, detached. Holding it in, makes it worse with the potential to erupt. And talking about it makes the people that you care about sad and blame themselves, when it’s not their fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.

Coping mechanisms are harder to come by because, In a way, you feel like you deserved to be punished for all of the sadness and negativity that you bring with you. No matter how much you self harm, smoke, or drink, the pain is always there, all it does is numb it for a little while. I’ve moved past that, or I’m trying to steer clear, and that’s why I grabbed my keys and left.

I should have spoke up, given you a call just to redirect my thoughts. I should have drove to you, climbed in your bed, and cried on your shoulder. I should have put my worries aside and told the truth.

But I was scared, I’m always scare, one time I’ll come crying to you and you won’t be home. I’ll call, crying like a blubbering mess, and you won’t answer. I’m scared, despite what you say, that one day I’ll wake up and I’ll truly be alone. I know that I wouldn’t be able to survive that. I wouldn’t be able to survive or fight without you.

So I drove.

Next time, I hope my road leads to you.