Dear Me,
As I was cleaning my room a few days ago I came across an old notebook, I'm sure you know what notebook I'm talking about. The notebook you carried with you at all times because it made you feel safe. The notebook you wrote in whenever you felt overwhelmed. The notebook that has countless pages in which you wrote about how worthless you felt. In which you wrote how you were sure you wouldn't make it to eighteen. Among all those awful things you wrote about yourself I did find one good thing: a letter you wrote to yourself.
In the midst of our twentieth birthday I decided to respond to the letter you wrote in that notebook on one of the few good days you had. The letter in which you told me that I needed to learn how to love myself. The letter in which you said that I needed to stop letting myself burn to light the way for others. The letter in which you said that it wouldn't be easy but that there would be better days.
I want you to know that you were right about everything you wrote in that letter. I want you to know that it has been two and a half years since the last time I tore my skin open. I want you to know that I no longer have to watch myself bleed to make sure I'm alive. I want you to know that I no longer set myself on fire to keep other people warm. I want you to know that I no longer cry myself to sleep. I no longer write about how much I want to die. I have found my passion for writing again, I abandoned it for a while because I was afraid I could only write when I was in pain and I didn't want that.
I want you to know that I am happier today than I have been in a very long time. I am truly happy. I want you to know that I am not ashamed of the scars you left on my body. I am standing here today because you were a fighter. You made me a fighter.
I want you to know that I have finally learned to love myself, but most importantly I have learned to love you. I love you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you that sooner.
I want to tell you I'm sorry for not keeping you safe. I'm sorry for not taking that blade away from your hands. I'm sorry I let you carve all those things onto your skin. I hope you forgive me.
I am grateful that God made us both cowards, you and I both know that I wouldn't be alive right now if you hadn't been so afraid of dying. Thank you for not dying. Thank you for making me who I am today. I promise to keep you safe this time. I'll write again soon.
Love Always,
You





















