A Growing Prose
Erykah,
When you were in 10th grade, you had a panic attack in school. You were embarrassed. You are embarrassed. That small moment of being vulnerable in front of everybody carried from the past. You hold it in your present and believe it will be in your future. It has continuously scared you, although you don’t remember most of the events surrounding. On a Thursday, you went to the Rubin museum and stood in front of the anxiety wall. You felt a full nest of butterflies engulf your very stomach, rising to your chest and relaxing in your brain. You thought about that panic attack that sat in the past, waiting to be brought into the present. Right next to the anxiety wall, standing tall, was the wall of hope. Hopes of many people; some of which shared the same hopes of you. This was future Erykah coming to take hold.
Since you were little, you wanted kids. You wanted a life in education and fun. You wanted to lead your own path. You wanted people to love. Since middle school you wanted to shed your skin; become a new person. You wanted to rid of the mental illnesses and confusion and fear and bad memories. You wanted to forget, but you wanted to remember. Since high school you wanted to leave behind the doctors and move on to your own life. No holding back. Only striving for the best. These are old hopes.
Present Erykah, who will be apart of both the past and future when this is finished, has new dreams. She- I- We- want to give love and to be loved. We want at least 2 children to be raised in the city the right way. We want to pursue our dream special education job, while living a healthy life. We want pure happiness. At the Rubin, there were notes stating that people are hopeful because they have good grades and happy families and because they know they have a purpose. Ours read that we are hopeful because we currently- in the present, although it was written in the past- are stable; something that we always aren’t. The big hope is to keep that stability. To have fun and be ourselves and love freely and live freely and be amazing.
If I asked you to tell me how we’re living now, would your answer bring ease as I try to fall asleep at night? Would our progress give me comfort and some relaxation? As the time goes by, I can only wish that for you tomorrow is better and the sun shines a little brighter and the thoughts get a little quieter and we are a little happier. I trust that you’ll look back on this and on us and tell us that everything ended up okay.
The full purpose of this letter is to say that we already have our happiness, Erykah. Sometimes it is dusted over or skipped past, but it’s there. Our past, present, and future will continue to intertwine and that is a good thing. There are the bad memories, good memories, and memories to be created, but we need them all. Those make us who we are. Those hold our happiness. How will we keep it?
Yours indefinitely,
Erykah