the twelth of november, 2012
i hope that you're still around to read this. because i know that you've - well, we've - considered calling it quits before this. and i'm sure we've considered calling it quits since. maybe you were considering calling quits just before you stumbled upon this letter, tucked away in the shoe box full of birthday cards and photos of friends long since forgotten that you keep beneath your bed. if you ever feel like calling it quits, just remember: nobody remembers a quitter. keep soldiering on.
you know what else i hope? i hope that when you look in the mirror that you see a beautiful person - inside and out - staring back at you. because right now, i don't see that person. but of course you know that. you know that i stare back at my reflection, wondering how i can feel so small inside and yet waste so much goddamn space. even so, i have faith that you'll stop wondering and just start loving the good parts and the bad parts of you all the same.
i hope you've grown to accept yourself for who you are. only a handful of our friends and family members know that we like girls and not boys. whenever it comes up during school, my heart leaps halfway up my throat and my stomach drops. while i do know that it's not something to be ashamed of, i'm still frightened of what others will say, will think. i'm frightened of the idea that i'll be treated differently. hopefully you've gotten to the point where you know that it's not only know that it's not something to be ashamed of, but it's not something that you need to hide.
i hope you don't bottle up all your feelings. i do this quite often. partially because my trustworthy confidante lives in another state, partially because i don't want to seem like i'm just vying for attention. i just hope you know that even you, the girl who is much too matured for her own good, need a break sometimes.
i hope that you were able to find a way to get out of here, that you graduated high school and went straight onto college. i hope that you wrote and published the first novel of (hopefully) many to come. i hope that you got your own place in london, that you frequent a quaint cafe on the corner, that you met the love of your life (whoever that ends up being) there. i hope you that succeeded in life but i also hope you let yourself live a little.
you deserve more than hopefulness. you deserve to have all these things be nothing but fact. but hopefulness is all i've got to give right now. we're hopers and dreamers and wishmakers.
above all else, remember this: only the strongest survive. we're survivors. you and i, we're going to be okay. maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. so keep your chin up and i'll do the same, because i believe in us.