230529
I'm fifteen. This is a little bit young, I think, for the level of reflection I do. As if I've lived a full life! I haven't even lived enough to get my driver's license.
I have this fixation on learning how I survived five years ago, three years ago. I want to know how I lived-- sometimes, she feels like someone else. That is why she is distanced from me in my writing; there is no way that I, soft, tired, and full of thought and hope, lived the same life as her: just continuing to survive day by day.
These days, I feel like I'm easy to hurt. Quick to be vulnerable. I'm almost an open book by name and practice. I like this me. I surround myself with people that don't want to hurt me. I surround myself with people that are fine when I'm soft and malleable and loud and quiet.
She made enemies, took on projects that no one else wanted to do, said the wrong things too loudly, and brushed it off when she got made fun of. She was terrified of getting in the car because of the interrogations instigated by parental figures, she was ultra-careful of what she checked out from the library, and she would tiptoe up to her room after school. She did that so I could flop around aimlessly in my thoughts, so I could fall over laughing, so I could take her hurt and make it beautiful.
I exist in this little pocket of my life where I can think clearly. Where I can tell myself: you are going to be fine. It might not be fine now, but it will be someday. Where I can go to school, be a little weird, come home, hang out with people, program, draw, and mostly, think.
What used to feel rough around the edges now feels sort of easy. I can look at myself in the mirror. I can remind myself that it's fine to feel bad, because everyone feels bad, but also things that make me feel bad are allowed to feel astronomically worse. I can cry at little videos on Youtube, I really do cry at a lot of things.
I used to write a lot of non-sensical poetry.
"...and i won’t look back at people when they talk to me,
because i’m not good (enough)
good"
"i am not going to remember
what it felt like to be a child
but i will remember that broken feeling
like i am wrong because i am not thinking the right things"
Here are three things I want to tell my little self.
One: We learned how to exist. We learned how to live in a way that doesn't involve self-flagellation, that doesn't involve doing too much and doing too little. I went to a party the other day, and I didn't dance until they played Titanium by David Guetta, because that's just the type of person we are now.
Two: We learned how to love. There are actually people in this world that you don't need to explain why you want to be with them, you just are. You have friends, albeit not the ones you planned to spend your life with in elementary school, and you have a partner, who is absolutely not the Pokémon guy from sixth grade. There are people out there who care about how you feel, how you interact with the world, and what you've been through, and no, you're not broken, you were just a codependent little girl who didn't know how to feel.
Three: I don't know who God is, but you are not Jesus. You don't need to save everyone. You don't need to be a disciple. You are allowed to live, sin, and take up space. It is what it means to be human. You cannot be God's son, because you are a daughter of Eve.
To a younger self: I love you.
Ok, thanks for reading. Happy loving fuckers