Tuesday, November 08, 2011

dear friend

i just finished reading the book the perks of being a wallflower. it just took me two days. it was that moving and interesting.


the book talks about a high school freshman, Charlie, whose best friend Michael committed suicide before the beginning of freshman year so he has to face high school alone. he has an elder brother who was a football superstar in the school and a sister in senior year. he became friends with a guy in his shop class, Patrick, and his stepsister, Sam, whom Charlie has a crush on. Charlie constantly writes to an "anonymous" friend about the things happening to his life: how he deals with his Aunt Helen's loss, his "favorite person in the whole world"; his relationships with his family; his friendship with Patrick and Sam and their experiences being high; his first girlfriend, Marie Elizabeth; the book assignments his English professor, Bill, gives him and the music he listens to.the book talks about his experiences with drugs, with girls, with guys, and his bouts with his own disorder and the traumatic experiences he had in the past. he doesn't expect his "friend" to look for him or to write back, but he feels grateful that he has someone to write to as a sounding board.

i wish i had a friend like that. i wish there was some random person i could talk to openly about my thoughts without having to feel ashamed or guilty for feeling certain things. i have this and i don't, can't even find the time to write for it sometimes when this was supposed to be my outlet so i don't have to resort to suicide. it's sad that i can't write as often as i'd want to without even caring if anyone read, heard or felt the same way. it's sad that even if i did have the time, nobody cares enough to listen to my thoughts or what i have to say anyway.

i wish i had a psychiatrist. pay someone by the hour just so i can lie down on a couch and talk. sometimes, that's all i need. someone like Charlie who listens and understands. someone like his anonymous friend whom i can write to and not have to worry about what that other person thinks or feels - whether he is being judged or not for all his thoughts and actions and the way he reacts (or not reacts) to the things going on around him.

i used to think that having a diary or a blog or someone to write to constantly was a good thing. that way, i wouldn't have to feel so bad or so alone because there would be one or two people out there who may have felt the same way at one time or another. being able to say out all those pent up emotions can be a relief, whether it's frustration over a colleague at work or unrequited love or indifference to your blood relatives or just being alone in general. Charlie had a family who was very supportive and he had someone to constantly write to, a professor who gave him books to read and write about and a circle of friends whom he enjoyed being with while going through his first year in high school, and yet, somehow he still felt all alone, still inside his head all the time. i could relate to Charlie in a way that, even if i know i can rely on people and i can also write about it, i still feel alone.

" . . . we accept the love we think we deserve . . . "

i still feel alone. i guess i'll always be alone.