Gia Raquel

We are scared to tell the truth. That’s as much honesty as many will admit. From then on, it’s grinding teeth and tightening fists. How much honesty is too much, though? And why don’t we ever reach that point?

High school reminds me of politics. I go in, say hello and smile, trying to get by without crossing anyone in the meantime. I’m not in the business of angering people or having big platonic breakups. I wasn’t brought up to make drama and start fights. But I’ve realized, there’s no way of avoiding that. Even if I keep my honest opinions to myself, there isn’t this magical guarantee I won’t face hardship.

I was asked the other day, what’s stopping me from telling someone the truth? We all have this someone. It’s the person who angered us, who betrayed us. It’s the person we wouldn’t dare tell the truth because that means we actually have to let them go.

As I walked through my day, I saw them. I could’ve gone up to them, yelled at them, cried to them, but I didn’t. I didn’t even look them in the eye. With all these possibilities in front of me, I chose the very last: do nothing. I owe myself the little bits of closure I can get, yet I refuse to do this for myself. Why?

This is to who it concerns, maybe you know who you are. So much of me hopes you don’t. But writing this, maybe I’ve lost a bit of care. You have lived in ignorant bliss during so many moments of suffering. With all you have ever felt for me, I never would’ve imagined this to be the end result. When I can’t sleep, I think about resting against you, listening to the house settle as my body jolts against yours every so often. I don’t forget who you were. But I have a hard time remembering how you’ve become who you are today. I miss you, but please do me a favor, don’t come back.

I don’t really know what I’ve written. But I believe I can leave some advice here. Be honest with yourself. And to the person who deserves all the brutal honesty you can give, let them go. As fast as you can, say your words, but let yourself fade away from them. Look in the mirror, find the dark crescents beneath your eyes and the loose beauty marks sprayed upon your face, do you recognize yourself?

I don’t. I don’t see who I was last year, or even 6 months ago. I need to get to know this stranger. Maybe she can help me.