Maybe it isn't about what music you listen to, or what you believe in. The clothes you wear or the job you go to. Your past and the people who mark you. Who you go home to at night, and how you share your bed. The God you worship or the blow you snort that helps you forget it. The family you do or don't have. Maybe it isn't about the food you don't eat, the scars on your body you did yourself with a razor, or the pills you put in your body that evens you out. How many times you fucked up, or that you keep fucking up. The kids you didn't have, the things you didn't do, the places you didn't go. The house you lost or the people who won't stay. Mistakes you made. Or even the picture perfect life you built, that doesn't make you happy. The things you think define you.
But, maybe it's about learning you're here to learn, and you don't have a fucking thing figured out and that's okay. Taking chances and not taking for granted the ones given to you. Doing the right thing, being the good for somebody else, and fighting for who you want to be. Whatever you need, you're the only one who can save you. You're here to learn that. It will come in waves. You learn first the way the salty water tastes, and how it shrivels up your fingertips, how it bogs you down and takes away all your air. Then, the waves slow and it throws you to the surface, to the world full of oxygen and transient reprieve. And when you go back under, thats the part where you get strong. You'll have to fight and you'll get tired. You're not here to apologize. You're not here to be perfect. You're not here to be perfect. You're here to be you. Don't quit.
First you learn, and then you cope, and then you keep going. So, keep going.
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