My dear friend,
You are all I have left of my past. I have abandoned all of my creations, keeping them only in memories that refuse to leave my heart. I still recall the times that they have cried for me and done questionable things that real people would not do.
My dear friend, you are all that is left. I met you a few years ago during finals week and recognized you because someone had described you a few times. Apparently, not everyone recognizes you. I feel accomplished to know your name. I feel accomplished in seeing what you do.
Even now, you still follow me. I’ve said goodbye to my past, on questionable terms which I deemed would be healthiest for everyone in the end. I’ve done the one thing I most often avoided doing: burning bridges. I burned not only three, but another three that were connected. I am accustomed to accepting that people will hate me for doing what I feel is best. The truth is, my past has made me selfish. I no longer sacrifice myself for others. I have so many more limits to what I can take.
But my dear friend, why can’t I say goodbye to you? Why do you still follow me? Why do you overwhelm me to the point of exhaustion? Why do you tell me all of these horrible things? Why do you dampen my self-esteem when things are clearly good and why do you make me feel worthless despite everything showing otherwise? Why do you tell me I did something wrong when all someone did was say hello?
My dear friend… why can’t I leave you? Why must you remind me of everything that can go wrong? Why must you punch me in the chest so strong that it feels like I’m having a heart attack? Why do you strangle me so? Why do I keep you around?
Oh, Anxiety… you’ve been with me for a while now, haven’t you? You’re not my favorite monster. You’re not my favorite friend. Honestly, I wish I knew how to say goodbye to you once and for all, but I feel that once someone meets you, you’re impossible to forget.