I am writing to you because of the inspiration that’s surging through my body. I don’t really remember when was the last time I wrote a letter. You know the real kind, but someone not so long ago called me an inspiration and even though I certainly am not one, I feel obligated to write you this letter.
As sappy and cliché this sounds, you need to know that you are amazing in every way. I’m not a poet or a writer so I will borrow the words from an old friend of mine O. Wilde: ‘You are the divine thing, the thing of grace and beauty.” How do I know this? Simple. Because you are my friend. I’m writing this in hopes that afterwards, you will see it too. I’m writing you this because I want you to look around and remember what you’ve got and maybe everything around you isn’t that bad after all?
I know that monsters under your bed used to be scary, but now it’s the monsters in our heads that you fear. I once looked at the world with different eyes, I was not a good person and I certainly wasn’t in a good place mentally. I never share my past because it’s the past. Like yesterday is the past, I’m a different person, a different version of me. Those monsters still sometimes follow me, maybe that is surely the reason why I feel like I can connect with you. You see, I never really changed, I just chose to leave things behind.
I like to joke that I’m mentally unstable, but with every joke, there is a bit of truth. I once read in a book that “sanity is best judged by those who lack it”. What a beautifully tragic thought that is. I’ll tell you how I found the strength to leave things behind – I embraced the insanity. I used to fear being hurt, but you can be emotionally numb only for so long that at some point you welcome the pain just so you could feel something. That was when I snapped, I finally realized that maybe, as insane as it sounds, the pain only is as painful as you see it. Think about it, when a child falls and bruises its knees there are two scenarios that can follow:
(1) the kids starts screaming like it’s the end of the world
(2) the child gets up and carries on running towards the swings.
In both instances, it’s equally painful, but it’s the thoughts that cloud or increase the pain. Of course, no bruised knees compare to monsters in your head, but like anything, in your head, you and only you have the power to silence them, even if it’s only for a fraction of a second. A quote is written on my wall “one day at the time is what they tell us”, it reminds me to celebrate every little accomplishment, every little victory because as little they may seem now, in the long run, they hold true significance – we must learn to walk before we can run.
I read a lot because I’m a coward. A book offers me a way to escape, become someone else and while engaged in the story I forget. That is how I cope. Sometimes I binge read more than I should but as every damaged soul, I need an escape, because we all have bad days. I encourage you to read, my friend, find an escape. Don’t let yourself crumble during the bad days, escape them. I’m no therapist, but if this works for me maybe it will work for you as well? What could be a better escape than having the opportunity to experience real adventures, Rome and Juliet worthy love while on a pirate ship in a different galaxy? That was a rhetorical question. Because the answer is … nothing!
When you look a the color spectrum from white to black you’ll find multiple shades of grey in between some of them darker than others. It takes millions of shades of grey until it turns black. So why do you, my friend, choose to view everything in black and white? I know that gray isn’t an awfully cheerful color, but the more white you add to the darkest of gray’s the lighter it gets. It may rain for days but it’s bound to clear sooner or later. So take a breath. Look around and tell me, is it really dark?
I don’t know, my dear friend, if I got across the idea that I originally intended to present. “When the heart is full it may run over, but the real fullness stays within… Words can never tell you… how perfectly dear you are to me – perfectly dear to my heart and soul.” Thank you, Mr. Browning, for helping me out with what I was trying to get across. So I must ask you, friend, to hold on thigh because the thunder will pass, the monsters will go quiet and a smile will grace your lips. Hopefully, you will have learned to appreciate it and will view it as a small victory in the vicious war that life is.