maybe trees fall in the forest because they don't want to wait until the machines come to cut them down. there are days when i have to hate myself with every fiber of my being because i live in fear of others despising me if i don't. people tell me to treat myself like my own best friend, but i never had a best friend when i was growing up so i guess i'm still learning how to be one. i hurt myself the way i know others have wanted to in the past, and i can only hope it's enough. i tap into the intelligence people keep saying i have and try to beat everyone to the punch like the punching bag is me. maybe if i'm first in line to hurt myself, maybe if i hate myself the most and the loudest, i can keep other people from hurting and hating me. but trees that uproot themselves to save time only end up causing pain for themselves. they never get to see a summer rain, or sway in an october breeze again. i curl into a ball in the corner and put my hands over my ears and tuck my head between my knees. i make myself small and unseen and unheard before people can tell me to.

and that's the problem, you see. because in protecting myself, i block out the kind words and shoulders to cry on that are offered. i cover my ears and scream my hatred for myself over everyone else's voice, and in doing so, i never get to hear the love they try to give me.