A Third Letter

Dear Past Me,

I am not writing you from that far into the future, for it is December 2016 and I’m writing to August 2016 me. I am in the middle of my senior year, and you have not yet started it, and we have much different expectations for how the year will turn out.

I am so incredibly proud of how you have handled everything that life has thrown at you, especially when it feels like the universe wants to sucker punch you. In the first ten days of school, you will encounter heartbreak, disappointment, and crushing feelings of loneliness.

But despite all that, you will reconnect with old friends, and deepen friendships with people you are only friendly acquaintances with where you are in the year now.  You will encounter heartbreak within the first ten days of school, but within the first ten weeks, you will have grown into the better version of your August 2016 self, and you will realize that in a crazy, twisted way, you are thankful for all the shit that was thrown at you at the beginning of the year.

You are getting your life back. It was slow, but now I feel that all of a sudden, I am right where we wanted me to be. There are, of course, things I wish I could change, but I am getting myself back, bit by bit. There are still unsaid things. There are still times when it feels like I will never feel right again. There are still times that I wish that I could go back and everything would fall into place like we had planned.

But.

This year is the best thing that ever happened to you, because you got yourself through this. Not Hurlburt, not LeBeau, not your friends.

You.

You may not be able to trust anyone fully again, but you now know that you can trust yourself.

This was the year that you learned that you could lean on yourself. And honestly? That’s worth all the heartbreak and the disappointment.

There are still a lot of things I wish I could change. I wish I didn’t have to write unsent and unanswered letters to make my feelings known. I wish I didn’t cringe every time I walked past that second floor classroom that was once my safe haven. I wish I didn’t have to live with all the what if’s, because closure isn’t an option.

But the thing that gets me through, the thing that I now know, is that I can get myself through anything.

And that, my dear, is invaluable.

 

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