This is a letter to my scars. This is a letter to the marks I see every day that remind me of where I have come from and where I am going. This is a letter of acceptance. This is a letter of disappointment.This is a letter of looking in the mirror and seeing what I choose to see.
This is a letter to the small indent on my forehead. This is me acknowledging that running down a theater hallway when you are three and newly walking is not the wisest decision. This is me accepting that I am clumsy. This is me learning to walk slower and admire the world around me. This is me running my fingertips over this small, insignificant mark and remembering the little girl with blonde curls wildly taking on life much faster than her feet can carry her.
This is a letter to any movie, article, poem, book, etc. about Alzheimer's. This is me acknowledging that grieving is never over. This is the hurt never going away. This is me hearing that term and seeing my grandmother. This is me not wanting to talk about the forgetting. This is me not wanting to admit that forgetting makes me angry. Forgetting makes me upset. Forgetting ruins my entire day. This is me being open about my grief.
This is a letter to the patch across my thigh and the bubbly line across my hand. This is me remembering that I am not afraid of the dark, but what lies within. This is knowing that heat burns, and leaves scars. This is a metaphor of love. Love burns. Love leaves scars. Love is a fiery passion not to be played with. Always turn on the lights before running blindly into its arms.
This is a letter to the slang terms of our youth. This is me being honest about pet peeves. This is me remembering how slang can be used to diminish one's dignity. This is me telling you that you should never hold words over someone's head when they are begging you to love them. This is a reminder that just because you wear an iron shell around your heart, that doesn't mean everyone else does too.
This is a letter to the bruised heart upon my sleeve. This is me being honest about the hurt. This is me telling you that no matter how hard you try, sometimes things don't work out. This is me telling you that no matter how badly you and a person want to be together, that doesn't always mean that you end up together. This is me saying that it's for the best. This is me writing that what you want doesn't always mean it is love.
This is a letter to the girl covered in scars she looks at every day. This is a letter to the mirror that shows every indent, mark, and tear that stare back into one's soul. This is me acknowledging that these can either serve as reminders for how weak I once was, or how strong I am now. This is me acknowledging that these scars have made me tougher. These scars have made me a warrior.
This is a letter to my scars, and it has become a love letter.
