Dear Me

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It’s kind of superficial for me to be writing a letter to myself when I’m only so young. But there are so many vibrant and so many callous thoughts that sometimes strife through your wild imagination that sometimes you need to hear auspicious advice to get along. This letter is for you to read when you’re 18 and are spending your night locked under a soft blanket with warm coffee and a sappy feminine mindset as the swing rocks beneath you; This letter is for you to read when he’s got his arms limp underneath you and you can’t sleep because you’re so happy that tears are stringing down your face with evanesce; This letter is for you to read when you’re hurling over a toilet- for whatever reason, be it your first shot of tequila or your first shot of oncoming motherhood.

Baby, you made it. I now that things went bleak for a minute, but look at you now. Seriously, drag your soft hands down your arm for a second. Feel your pulse jumping underneath your white skin. You. made. it.

"I’ll never let a man put his hands on me." you used to say as a 14 year old, but then at 17 he left a mark for weeks and when it faded, you didn’t know how to let him go. But, you did. You are not those words that he said, nor are you those marks that he left. Look at you; you got the courage to leave. Be proud of yourself. But, listen to me, if you’re reading this because you’re not sure if it’s time to open your mouth- it is. Do it. You used to say this quote over and over again but the second you were intoxicated underneath his taut grip, you thought, "I am not courageous anymore", but you are. "Sometimes all you need is 20 seconds of insane courage. Just literally, 20 seconds of embarrassing bravery." Be like that again. Whatever it is that you fear, stop fearing it. Stop fearing life: emotions, feelings, thoughts. Just stop fearing them. Live again.

Whatever you are holding to your thighs, drop it. No razors. No lighters. Nothing. Drop them. You recovered. Do not let yourself relapse. Call your mom. Cry. Tell her what you are so dangerously upset over. She is there to love and care for you. Do not let those things scar you again. Do not let the unwavering depression and anger uproot you.

If you are feeling a feeling that you cannot wait to express, write it down. Write it down exactly how you want to say it. No, babe, pick up the phone. Forget the idea that he is in a meeting right now and can’t answer the phone. Leave a voicemail. You have to get this off your chest. Be honest. Never be that girl who held everything inside again. Be happy and smile. Or cry, if that’s what you want. Never hide your feelings again. You are a human. Humans feel. Feel, god damn it. Feel.

Throw the glass of beer at her. Who gives a damn if you get kicked out of the place? Everyone needs to experience this. She’s being rude and cruel. Throw the beer at her. Hit her, but only if she comes at you. If not, just leave. Don’t let a woman talk down to you like that. We are women and we should always lift each other up with the wings we were given at birth! If a woman talks down to you, she is not your fellow woman. She is part of the problem. Keep your feminine roots. Never let your feminism elude you.

I know right now you are thinking that he does not care. He is going to come home and kiss your forehead and then you are going to feel stupid. Don’t. It’s years of being torn down and ripped apart that did this to you. Everything is clearly fine. Slide up his body, wrap your legs around his waist, kiss him for a few minutes, and bask in the glory that he is all yours. Look down at the ring that sits on your finger that you vowed to never accept and then think of how much bliss you experienced when you did accept the vows. Kiss him. Thank him. Tell him that you love him. Tell him how proud you are of him. Let his hands hold you tight and let his mind sweat with why you are being so fervent. When this encounter is over, talk to him. He cares. He loves you. He wants to hear your thoughts and words. Talk. Then listen. 

Spend time with your family. One day, they will not be there. Hug them tight. Tell them stupid jokes. Reminisce on the time that you thought your car ran on electricity and not gas. Laugh, smile, cry. 

Love, baby. Live and love- all you can. This is your life!

Remember that, babe.

Don’t ever let your dreams feel crushed into oblivion. 

This is life, be fearless. You are living. Your job is not a job; your relationships are not priorities. None of those exist. 

Dopamine. Seratonin. Oxytocin.

Those are the 3 chemicals that ravish you, and entice you. If all else fails, blame them.

Ador,

Me

This poem is about: 
Me

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