A Letter To My Lonely Me
For myself, the lonely one,
My dear me, I am so sorry to hear about your loss. I have offered a self-help book, cheesy words of affirmation, and an open ear. Now is the time to give you my open heart to flush out words of empathy, but, more importantly, give you the compassion to fix you.
As I know, You have been battling through depression for four years. On the way home, after seeing a professional for the first time about it, I played “Fix You” by Coldplay on YouTube — purposefully knowing it’d make you feel better in an instant. This is my song for you because I do not want you to ever, especially through your time of loneliness, invalidate the feelings you felt and regret your steps you have taken. Know that there is hope, and that is the promise that will strengthen you during this journey of self-reflection and healing. Hope has been inside of you already, but remember that I am 110% here for you.
I want you to feel frustrated, confused, sad, and hateful. I need you to be human. Let your guard down and do not be “okay”. It takes strength to remove your mask, I know, but it takes courage to cry, yell, and even question. You have a right to feel what you feel, and what I particularly want to focus on is the shame you must be going through.
I know, You were rejected, so you are justified in feeling shame. You, however, are not justified in feel alone because you are not. This one rejection is not going to make me, your other friends, your family respect, appreciate, or love you less. You are the beautiful human being I care about, and now’s the time to care about yourself. You always give so much positivity to others. Seeing and talking to you always brightens their day and brings a genuine smile to their face, and that is something they will always characterize regarding to you.
Take a breath and think of yourself right now swimming in the ocean. You’re the one who has the choice of swimming and exploring the unpredictability, vastness, and beauty of the sea; or, rather, you may want to go back onto shore and be one with the steadiness and calmness that lays in the sand. The world is your oyster, my dear me — there’s so much present before you.
I pray that you have the strength of the swimmer to live in the moment of the tide, but to not be afraid of change and a new routine as you may want to mosey back to shore. Soak up the sun and get some sea salt in — it’s healthy. Do what is best and healthiest for you, please. I’m counting on your judgment.
I hope this letter brings you comfort, and a sound mind. I love you dearly. Let me know if there is anything more I can do to help.
Your forever yourself