A Series of Letters

To Winter,

Things always seem to be clearer when you're around. Now that you're gone, I have no idea what I'm doing. 

Sincerely,

Summer

Dear Winter,

Can you come back? Bring back the cold, when I felt alive. When I knew what course my life was supposed to follow. It's so easy to get lost in this heat that is me.

Love, 

Summer

Dearest Winter, 

I wish you'd come back. Things seem to be clearer when it's cold, and I need to see clearly again. 

All my love,

Summer

Self- Eulogizing

She wanted the ceiling of her bedroom to be painted like the sky.

Before she fell asleep, she thought about what she should do the next day, and then fell asleep to the memories of hushed voices and hidden smiles. 

If she could have had one wish, it would've been that she could freeze the most special moments of her life, capture them in a bottle and keep them forever. 

She always dreamed that she'd jump out of an airplane- wearing a parachute, of course. She wanted to feel the wind on her face and experience the exhilaration of knowing that death could be moments away.

Before she died, she wanted to live. 

Just something in general to that special someone

If you even exist. I've definitely considered the possibility that you might not be real. But whether you're real or not, I've still thought about you. 

I want you to want to see me happy. I want you to love my smile and the sound of my laughter and the light in my eyes. But if I need a shoulder to cry on, I want you to be that shoulder. 

I want to see you happy. I want to fall in love with your smile and the sound of your laughter and the light in your eyes. But I'm also willing to be a shoulder to cry on, too.

What I'm saying between the lines is that I'm lonely. And I want you to fix that but I don't know who you are and if I did I'd probably deny it. I mean, let's be honest here. I'm terrified of loving you. I know you're going to hurt me. But I want to find you anyway. 

I just thought you should know. 

The Beauty in Sadness

I need distraction. These stupid tears keep coming at the worst moments and I can't stand it, but I can't make them stop because I can't stop thinking and remembering. I hate this.

Life is tricky and painful. But you can't take it too seriously. No one gets out alive anyway. 

I really think I need to see a counselor, because I'm not sure where some of these vehement, terrifying feelings are coming from. Man, I'm messed up. I can't stand the idea of sleeping, but at the same time that's the only thing I want to do. And I feel sick to my stomach. If I can't forget to wake up, I want to wake up with amnesia or in the arms of God because this hurts so much more than I thought it would. 

Yeah, a professional would definitely be able to help you sort through your emotions.

I feel like I'm going to explode. I've said goodbye to too many people already and I don't know how I can handle any more of this.

You can, because you have to.

I feel kind of like I did right after I got back from that road trip, but on a much larger scale. The idea of continuing to live life normally is unfathomable. But then again, I don't really know what normal is. I think something inside me might have snapped, but I don't know what. I wonder what the science is behind emotions. Some chemical in my brain is probably being released to make me feel like my world is ending.

You care so deeply that it causes much higher degrees of emotional pain for you in events like this.

I didn't know it was possible to miss someone who's still alive this much. I really hope this Three Days Hate thing is over sooner than three days from now. Although it's more like Three Days Grief this time. And it will probably start over again soon.

You aren't leaving anyone forever, you realize that, right? You aren't saying goodbye for forever, just goodbye until you see them again.

But what if I don't see them again?

Then you don't in this life.

I know life is short, but suddenly it seems awfully long. 

Corkscrew

Don't you dare tell me that you know me. You don't know me. If you knew me, you'd know I just want to feel valued. 

Don't you believe in me at all? Answer me.

Never mind, don't answer that. Because you've hurt me enough already and you're too blind to see it. And there's no point saying anything more. We both know it's useless. You're always right, aren't you.

Don't you dare accuse me of not approaching you. Every time I open up you stab me, but somehow you don't even realize you're holding a knife. With every question you ask, you twist the blade in deeper until its corkscrewed so tightly in my heart that it'll take me years to remove.

Don't you dare say you didn't mean to. I already know that. You never mean to but that's when you hurt people the most. I despise the tears that run down my face so often because they give you power over me. 

I can hear your whispering and I know you're talking about me but I don't know what you're saying and I don't want to. 

You don't know me, so don't you dare say that you do. 

Butterfly | Part Two of Fireflies

Last week I stood on the edge of a cliff, inches away from Death. Literally. And as I stood there, two things flashed through my head. The first:

Dear God, give me wings.

A butterfly fluttered past. It was pale yellow and black, and maybe He didn't really give me wings, but in that moment it felt like He did. Even if it was just a fragile, harmless creature, there was something there to protect me, to be with me if I did fall, and perhaps to fly my soul upward if it came to that. The second:

 

Don't think, just jump.

I told myself this over and over. The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. So I finally forced myself to stop thinking. Because when I think too hard, my heart beats faster, my head starts to spin, and I can't think straight.

 

Life is like that. Life is like that chasm, waiting for me to lose my footing so it can swallow me up. I can't think too hard or I have an emotional breakdown. In fact, I can feel one coming on now, so I'm going to stop thinking about it because I've already had three today and crying gives me a headache. So I'll just stick to the metaphors.

 

Life is like that chasm. Completely and unavoidably there. But the butterfly was there, too. It gave me Hope, but I never would have seen it if I hadn't looked up.

 

I look up at night and see stars. Fireflies caught in an endless expanse of dark, their light only ever seen at night. Each one tragically, heartbreakingly, immortally beautiful. And each one gives me Hope.

 

Because Life isn't always kind, but it is beautiful.

 

 

Cards

Brand new deck of face cards. I'm teaching myself to shuffle them.

Cardboard boxes and cowboy boots. I feel as empty as those boxes are full. I'm throwing away pieces of my past.

I dropped the deck, but I picked them up again.

I'm grateful for the piano. And my hairbrush, even though it broke. And for corrective lenses. And also God. I'm not sure what I'd do without Him.

My fingers are sore but I don't know what else to do but get better at shuffling these cards.

I keep thinking about the night I stayed up until two in the morning. I like the night time. I'm still afraid of the unknown, but at least I'm not afraid of the dark anymore.

Reshuffle.

I don't understand parents. Or middle school relationships. And I don't think I'll ever understand tongue piercings. But I'm over it. There are just some things I don't understand.

Deal the cards out for another game of solitaire.

Game over.

Shuffle again.

Once I fell asleep under a tree at the park. And I've slept in my car before. And on a bus. I don't sleep very well on airplanes, though.

I wish I had someone to play cards with.

I'm not very good at shuffling cards.

I wish I was brave. There's too much pretending. That I won't have to say goodbyes. I sat in the car thinking of how I don't want this to end but I never said a word. Sometimes I wish I had. Too late now.

Shuffle again.

Lone Star Soul | Part One of Fireflies

Remember the pain of watching little girls try to deal with their grief.

The silent tears in an attempt to act grown up and keep it together, but not knowing where to draw strength from. Tears coming off and on, struggling to maintain some sense of normalcy. Red eyes and shaking shoulders, clinging to the surrounding people for comfort. Crying too hard to breathe, too young to completely understand what's happening. 

The 'I love yous' keep getting stuck in my throat because I cry when I say them and crying gives me a headache. They're harder to say than they used to be but I say them anyway because it's a privilege to be hurt by some people.

Oh, dear heaven, but why does it have to hurt so much?

I cried again when I had to say goodbye. Out of love and fear that it might be the last time. I just have to remember the feeling of her little hand in mine to pull me through until I see her again. I hate saying goodbye, but never getting the chance to say it is worse. 


It's dark outside, but I think I see the light.