Hi there, penpal. penpals? you? penpal.
I really want to
I wish you would have
I don't really know what to say or write, penpal. Here I am, sitting in a hospital room, writing a letter to somepony I've never met, but saved my life. There's still police ponies outside my door, and someone from the ECP, waiting for me to finish this letter. They said they had a way to send it to everypony who sent a letter?
I don't know who you told to send me so many letters. I can't believe you told so many-
I read all the letters. Each of them hit me in different ways and in some way I couldn't believe they were for me. But I can't help but feel uncomfortable and overwhelmed by all of this. I think I need to stop responding to the letters. I'm not mad at you, penpal. None of this is your fault. I guess I'm more mad at myself. I think it's because I don't like myself. It's all my fault.
I'm a big mess of emotions right now. I'm so happy. I'm so sad. I'm so angry at you. I'm so scared. I feel like I'm going crazy.
But I'm alive. great. That's what is important, right?
They're having me a shrink psychologist therapist to talk through the problems I've been facing. They don't want to release me until they think I'm not a harm to myself.
They've told me that one day I'm going to thank you for saving me. Right now I don't know how to really feel. But I know if you didn't persist in trying to reply to me, I wouldn't be here right now.
I'm sure that hundreds of ponies could have read my letter, and done nothing. But you didn't. You didn't give up.
You didn't give up on me.
Thank you,
Melody Breeze