Dear me,

When you close your eyes at night, I know the life that you long for. Your dreams are so much bigger than this tiny town. Sadness and angish are replaced by happiness and sunshine in your dreams. I know you want that seemingly impossible life. I know you want a life of fulfillment. A life that feels worth living.

I know you don't want to hear this, but life is not what you expect. True, my days are now my own. I am no longer chained to my bed with a black hole of despair. Yet, happiness is not what you think.

I know you think one day you'll just wake up and wash it all away. I'm here to tell you that won't happen. It takes years of hard work to become that person. And even when you achieve it, you'll still always be haunted by the ghosts of your past. Those carefree days you dream of will not match the reality laid out in your imagination.

I know you think you know exactly how your career and life will play out. I'm here to tell you those aspirations were all abandoned years ago. Years of bills, medical surprises, and broken promises will cause you to settle. You will need to change the entire way you think of yourself, your career, and what it truly means to live well. Yes, you will still be free to dream. But the life you eventually come to achieve will be much smaller than your endless dreams.

No, your happiness will not be what you are now imagining. You will settle and compromise until your life is livable, but not the spectular event you dream of at night. You will eventually realize that your happiness will never be the careful fulfillment you think. Your hope will turn into a life of quiet desire. A yearning to find that happiness you once longed for, but is now so far out of reach.

I don't know if I can say anything to truly prepare you for the pain you have yet to endure. I know you think you are living in the darkest part of the planet. I know you think that the light can't be far from you. Sadly, I know you have darker days ahead of you before you can finally be free. You will become all to accustomed to hearing doctors say that they are powerless to help you. In just a few short years, you will have to watch your own boyfriend be buried. It will be years before you are truly financially stable. And even when you are, you will still be drowning in medical bills. There is no way to prepare you for what lies ahead.

I don't want you to think that my point in telling you all this is that it's not worth the pain. Yes, if I could, I would change what lies ahead for you. But I sadly do not process such powers. You will get to a point where you are content with the life you have settled, scraped, and sacrified to earn. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may not be the blinding sun you are imagining. It's more an everlasting glow of embers from a once roaring fire. But it is there. And you will learn to warm yourself with the glow of the embers.

Dear Loved One,

You have watched and read enough science fiction to know that it is unwise to know the future. However, you also believe in a God who has told us the end of the story. So I shall tell you where you are in that story now.

You are healing, which of course means you will be wounded. You are growing, which means you will be pruned. You are in a whole new world, which means you will leave one behind. You are also grieving,which means... the unthinkable. But I wouldn't change a thing. After all, we know the end of the story. The good may not always outweigh the bad, but the joy still overcomes the despair.

I write not so you can skip over anything or even to brace you for the chapters ahead. I write to encourage you. I am here, because you are braver than you know. I am here, because you have loved ones who believe in you - loved ones you should hold onto. I write so that you know you are loved through it all. And that love is your strength.

With joy,

Anda Yang Dicintai

stop wishing

to be older

because i can tell you

that once you hit your teen years

you wish to be

young again.

you go through hell

and maybe you even

enjoy it a little bit.

Dear Younger Me,

stay right where you are,

live in the present

because future holds

family rivalries,

questions about yourself

and those around you.

your grandfather who used to toss quarters on the floor

and say that he had holes in his pockets

is homophobic

and won't accept you for who you are,

so while he dies of COVID a few states away,

you don't know what to feel.

you see the ugly side of your family

and the ugly side of kids

and the ugly side of

yourself.

when you get older,

everything seems ugly,

and you wish you could go back to

when you were younger

and everything seemed

beautiful.

Dear Younger Me,

stay away from

the golden boy

because his gold

is pyrite

and even though he glitters

he is worthless.

Dear Younger Me,

quit wishing to be older

and enjoy your youth

before it all gets

taken away from you.

Dear Younger Me,

rely on reality,

no matter how bad it seems,

because fantasy will only tear you to shreds

as you question who you are.

Dear Younger Me,

stay away from toxic friends,

they taint you forever,

and years later, you haven't shaken

them.

Dear Younger Me,

don't worry so much about your grades,

they go to shit anyway.

Dear Younger Me,

keep writing,

because it's the only thing that keeps you living.

Dear Younger Me,

don't run away from home,

you don't know how good you've got it.

Eventually, you'll learn that

your family is beautiful and kind

and you'll learn how lucky you are.

Dear Younger Me,

just remember

that it's okay to forget

and that it's okay to remember.

To my past self,

I can't change my past.

It's done.

If I could, I would,

but sometimes,

I don't think it will matter

if you get this letter or not,

because in our weakness,

when we are stuck in the past,

we forget the future.

Dear Younger Me,

keep writing.

Keep writing.

Keep on writing and writing

because if you stop,

you'll lose the last

gift

you have left.

Dear Younger Me,

stop trying to get older

because when you get older,

you start to know things

that you'd rather stay hidden.

And speaking of hiding places,

don't bother hiding

those scraps of metal you find,

and don't bother wearing long sleeves,

because they'll find it anyway

so you might as well

own it.

You might not know what I mean by that yet,

but you will,

because you can't change the past,

even with a warning

from the future.

So many things to work through.

However, this journey I'm on is incredible.

Game on!

eyes

spark

awkward

conversations

dreams

of

what

could

be

and

then

the

end

heart

shatters

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

The valley is beautiful,

And so are you.

Orchids are white,

Ghost ones are rare,

Your light is red,

And so is your hair.

Magnolia grows,

With buds like eggs,

Transition is smooth,

And so are your legs.

Sunflowers reach,

Up to the skies,

Fields are green,

And so are your eyes.

Foxgloves in hedges,

Surround the farms,

Amounts are small,

And so are your arms.

Daisies are pretty,

Daffies have style,

Your boots is shiny,

And so is your smile.

The world is beautiful,

Just like you.

I write to feel. All of the feels missing in my life. Everyone needs a little pick me up, right? what it’s like? Waking up in the morning just to lay back down? To lool in the mirror and spend hours nitpicking every flaw, only to realize that it doesn’t matter. Because you’ll never be pretty. So, cover-up yourself. The marks on your neck, your bowed legs, your arms, and thighs. You’re so embarrassed by yourself, that you won’t give anyone else the chance to even say hello. It’s so hot outside, boiling, and yet you dress in your baggy jeans. The oversized hoodie, which you should know you, you got the biggest male size cause that’s all they’ll see anyway. They’ll never see that girl with ponytails. Never the girl with dresses and a cute laugh. Not the one people faun over. No. They only see “it”. The being with the 4x hoodie. The one who games with boys, but can’t enter the bathroom without being mistaken for a pervert. That poor unfortunate soul who everyone thinks is a robber or criminal because they frown and dress in dark clothing. That girl ran out of the food place because the waiter called her a ‘sir’ in front of everyone else. I’m...sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Whenever I talk about my problems, it gets worse. I’m the type of girl who tries to starve herself. Who, out of fear of bothering others, lets herself be a doormat and puts others before herself. Thee type of girl that doesn’t share her ideas, because she wants to give everyone else a chance. The type of girl that cries is anyone fights, or if she’s being yelled at, or if she senses that someone is upset. The one you’ll blame herself for everything. That same one who was sent to a psych ward for seeing demons out to get her family. And even though her suffering, she had to sit and watch people try to sacrifice for her....all because she couldn’t keep it bottled up enough until they walked away. Can you imagine the guilt? The shame?! The pressure of people trying to fix you, when you know you can’t be. Useless. The word of the day. Then the week. And later the year. Recently the decade. Feeling so p useless, so hopeless, that all she could do was sleep it off. Hibernate in her room till she was hungry. And when she had any openings, she would grab food, take it to her room, and hibernate some more. She got so tired of giving, and giving, and feeling so pointless that she became depressed. Tried to take her own life. But do you know why I’m still here? Because I couldn’t even take my life right.Heh. Do you see it? Utterly useless. I was honestly tied of the pain. The resentment. But I was too much of a coward to do it. Can you believe that! I realize that I’m being selfish. I get it. There are people out in the world staving, without education, in debt, and/or running from an abuser or going through mental health and other tough times. But saying that doesn’t make it anyless painful for me to get through my problems. Sorry for unloading on you. I really needed to vent.