(A coffee mug full of wine (or vodka, your choice really :p), that touches your lips- curled upwards, in a maniacal smile, as you feel relief and peaceful contentment that touches your soul, would be an appropriate choice of beverage for this one.)
Hi. It has been a while, hasn’t it?
I have wanted to reach out to you so many times in the past few months, it is just that I could never figure out what to tell you. I do not deal in dishonesty or disillusionment. I could write an entire book about the past four months but I think some parts of your life are too atrocious to deserve that kind of emphasis.
So, I refrained from reaching out.
Besides, I don’t even know what I would have said to you!
It was all too terrible to deserve documentation; I have always believed in only writing about the happy parts because the tragedies hurt for long enough to be remembered without having to be jotted down.
They don’t deserve that kind of emphasis in our lives, in my opinion. And we do not deserve that kind of hurt and spending of ourselves.
In the time I was gone, I did a lot.
I changed addresses and friends, I changed my hair; multiple times, and even my own self.
I went to a concert for the first time in my life: I was right there in the front, pushing the barricades, making eye contact with the band, screaming; yelling lyrics to songs I had never heard before in my life, and yet, somehow, I already knew. We danced terribly and even in the middle of all that contempt around me, I was so fucking happy. I cannot listen to that artist anymore because of everything it represents and how much it hurts.
I turned 20 this month and that warrants some hope too. And yes, the rumors are true: the backache sneaks in so swiftly, you will not even realize it! :p
Which brings me to the conversation.
The one about growing up.
I think that growing up is just a myth. What you really do is you turn back into a kid after you have done all your growing up. You live and you get hurt and you learn all your lessons, but, ultimately, growing up is about doing everything you wanted to as a kid. Only this time, you aren’t as self-conscious or trying to put yourself down.
If you ever forget who you are, or are just so lost that the word does no justice to how you actually feel, I would recommend that you go back and pull out your old diaries, journals, drawings, or storybooks.
You left the truest and the purest parts of yourself there before the world could try to break you or shape you; you were so whole and you were so damn you, and I don’t think you will ever get a better reality check or a truer reflection of yourself.
There is no malice and no agendas; there are no ill-intentions or double edges of swords to balance over when you are a kid.
As a kid, you are bound only by what you have not thought of yet.
You create worlds and realities and you keep adding to them; you are a witch, an astronaut, and a scientist, all in the same afternoon!
And as this newly turned 20-year-old, I could tell you something deep or insightful; some revelation that is life-changing, but I don’t have anything like that. I am all mellowed out now. There are no revolutions raging in my blood anymore; there is no rage here. I am trying to become forgiving, and sometimes, in doing so, I let a lot of things just be. (Including myself, at times.)
I do not seek revenge or feel any need to have the upper hand.
I think to recognize I am better than that makes me better than those who have wronged me; for I am light and I have moved on.
But for them?
They have to carry spite; they still scheme and they have to turn away when they look at me.
I believe all the hurt dissipates; even if it does so extremely slowly.
It is unbearably excruciating and seemingly unending and eventual seeming; but, it does come to an end. Eventually.
And then, April comes to an end.
And to paraphrase T.S. Elliot from The Waste Land, isn’t she cruel?
I think we end up becoming one of two things most often: those whom we admire the most and those whom we despise from the deepest and the darkest depths of our hearts.
Ever since I was a child, I had a fascination with Medusa.
Look at me now! (Pun intended.)
I hope I am someone you cannot help but look at, even if it leads to your doom; I hope it leads to your doom if you intended me aches and hostility.
I hope you find me forgiving and when need be, I hope I am genuine, and yet, you find it patronizing.
May there be elegance in all our acts of revenge. May we never need to hold swords; and may you be hurt by the sharp curves of my smile.
(P.S. I hope you have the good sense to know that this is not about you. And I hope you are smart enough to not make this about yourself or twist it, not this time around. <3)
God, I want to give you lessons that are worth an entire lifetime, and yet, I know that I know nothing because I am still such a child!
I think growing up is about being at peace with your inner child and protecting her:
It is the most delicate balance of them all.
You let her lead you into the light; into becoming a person who is kind, to the point where it might even be naive. And there is the grown-up, the one who tells you to stay away from people who keep finding ways to break you; for you don’t deserve that kind of spending.
Growing up is about redefining all the words you have known. And knowing that these definitions will keep on changing; you owe it to yourself to let them transition and grow as you do.
Watch me live a life; watch me be human; be happy and sad and cry, and not try to put anything together for anyone, anymore.
I am less than eloquent at times and I am above sophistication to the point where I am chaotic and happy.
Let me paint the spectrum for you; let you in on a secret, see me be real.
I am spinning out, and damn it, it is so human; it is almost beautiful.
I will take the grace, I will take the disgust. I will leave the door open, even after you leave.
I will hope.
I will be damned if those with ruined lives, who take pride in ruining lives, ruin me.
I am a phoenix, I am the crushed and the crumbled; if seeing me vanquished brings you pleasure, just know that the moment I go up in flames is the moment I am the most powerful.
I rise right after.
The darkest hour is just before dawn.
And then, the sun rises.
And onwards we go!
Recommendations:
- Books:
Normal People - Sally Rooney
Conversations with Friends -Sally Rooney
The Sun is Also a Star - Nicola Yoon
- Poetry:
This time, I will leave you with poetry from two of my favorite (and admittedly, devastating) poets:
Mouthful of Forevers - Clementine von Radics
War of the Foxes - Richard Siken
I think this is a good point to say our goodbyes.
Fare thee well my dear friends, I hope to hear from you and catch up with you soon!
Here is a link to all my Social Media Handles: Link
Signing off,
Anika :)