I am still growing.

This, these words here, is my place. I find my space here. In the past, this is where I ran to. When things got bad, when things hurt too much. And today, I'm sitting here, all by myself at this computer. I have no friends with me, I have no one who loves me here. And somehow, I'm alright. I hurt, yes. But the pain isn't too much. And I'm all safe, here in this secret. My words are the sanctuary. I have gotten use to becoming stronger. I do things on my own. I bear the pestering thoughts without spilling them to the world. Except here. Here I can say anything. No one knows me here. And they don't need to. I look at the old posts, and I see my change. My growth. My becoming. And that's how things are. I'm still the slow learner. I still have my downs. I just got dumped like a bag of bricks by a person I really liked.  And they only talk to me if they're drunk. And that hurts. But I'm alright. I hurt. I cry. I am hungry and it is Thanksgiving day. And that Really hurts. I have no one to talk to. But these words help. This is what I do to live. To keep going. Me and my secret words. I will keep going. I will keep hurting my way through the days. And there are people who will come and go for me. And it'll just be me. But that's not the worst that can happen. I am still the person who runs. I am still the person who hurts. And maybe that will never change. Maybe I will always run, and always hurt. But today, I'm so glad I'm alive anyways. I made it. Eleven years suicidal. Seven suicides. I've never cut myself. I've never put myself in the hospital. I have made my way. So thank you. To who ever you where, in that one moment. The time you made me laugh. The time I got to see a bird sit next to me. For all the cats. For all of the books. Every shred of kindness. Every laugh. Thank you. This world is good enough. Thank you.