Dear 11 year old me,
I see your world crumbling.
I know the walls around you are shaking, the floors breaking. I can hear the sound of the air vibrate so violently, and the strength in your legs weakening. I can see each tear be born, mature, and die.
Your eyes tell it all.
The family that looked picture perfect fade away. The final door that comes unexpectedly, and the heartache that follows.
I remember the promise you made. To live on, for him.
When will you learn to live your yourself?
Will it take you losing family and friends to understand?
Will it take saving others from suicide to understand?
Will it take the isolation that you felt trapped in to understand?
The world has so much to offer. You’ll graduate high school, and be successful in college. You’ll have a brother that will grow up into someone who has the power to change the world. You’ll have someone who loves you and wants to be there with you every step of the way.
You finally won’t be alone.
But, life isn’t all flowers and honey. You’ll be in a global pandemic, having everyone wear masks as a deadly disease is going around. You’ll have to live some of the best years of your life away from the people you miss the most. You’ll soon start university and the consequences of your actions WILL INDEED catch up to you.
But that’s ok. Because you persisted, I exist. You passed on the torch, and I carried it on. Thank you for existing. Thank you for being enough. You may not have the capacity to say “you’re welcome” yet, because I don’t now.
But I’ll write you back when I can. See you next time.