#writingwithrupi

Dear 2015 Me,

Over the last five years we have moved through life ages 19 to 24. At 19 years old we were still in love with a boy we thought we would love forever. We find out forever would only last a little past our 22nd birthday. Our heart was shattered by May, we questioned if it was love at all. We felt lost. Our heart suddenly turned to concrete and sunk to the depths of our stomach. It sat there for months. We walked around with a hollow chest, very unlike us. We grew from that, but it did break us for a while. In that time we got our masters degree, we lost some friends but the few left are precious gemstones. We were heartbroken about that too. But let them go. We learned how much we loved to sing karaoke in gay bars, and midnight walks and kissing boys named Will. Experiences are what we live for now. Not people. We also learned not to pour ourselves into hungry mouths anymore. That was most important. Here began our self love story.

We questioned  whether we would love again. We will.

We questioned if we should even try. We do.

You know our heart can’t help it.  

Right after 23 we fell in love for the second time. Don’t get your hopes up this one didn’t last either. But we did love him. And we don’t wish harm on him. He taught us a few things… like mutual respect is supposed to be a part of a relationship. Not just a wish. Oh and  the word ‘no’ is not an incentive to manipulate actions out of us. Like a magic trick, we stared in awe the first night it escaped our lips, and he held us instead. We cried. He never knew why. We had accepted much less for years. You may be wondering what we must have done to see him go. Don’t worry. I can tell you there was nothing we could have said to keep him. Sometimes the ones who heal need the most healing.

I know you are likely reading this and thinking… in five years heartbreak and healing has become our brand. It may very well have. But with every heartbreak we bloom, with every hardship we learn, we carry ourself with grace now. And let me tell you… You. Are. Glowing.  

-R.M.

my paintings.

sweet smelling lotions.

snorting laughs.

my music.

hugs that feel like warm sweaters.

my corny dad jokes.

chocolate chip cookies.

fuzzy socks.

dedication to mundane tasks.

I am going towards happiness.

I am healing.

I am going to a place with less tears, less self-deprecating words, less fear.

or so I’ve been hoping

I’ve tried & ran back before, but now I have a merry band along with me.

This road was the less appealing option.

Because before I reach the end, I have to hurt more than ever. 

Trial and error.

I scream when I see shadows. I scream at my own reflection. Everything on this road is more terrifying than the lass, but this time I press forward.

The road seems endless. 

I have no idea how long it is, what my journey ahead is. 

I’m afraid I’ll never get to my destination.

I’m afraid every member of my merry band will disappear.

The thought is bitter and harsh, like biting into raw ginger.

But it’s just those fear mongers at the sides of the road trying to get to me. 

I never saw them before, but he showed them to me

This journey can be fun. Exciting. I can make it fun

We consume, we sing, we dance, we laugh, we add to our merry band. It makes it more bearable, fun even.

I look forward to these moments.

We climb into my old black truck. It makes the journey quicker, more familiar. Worth it in the end.

If I were to write the story of my life I would name it “Coffee”. 

Coffee is a bit bitter until you sweeten it. 

You can add things to it to suit it to your taste.

But at its core it is dark and bitter. 

Depending on what you add to it, you can make it more or less sweet.

You can make it lighter.

Sometimes even when you sweeten it, the bitterness creeps through.

But it is fluid, give people energy.

There are places dedicated to its cause.

People gather for the purpose of consuming it. It makes people kinder. Awakens them.

It gives you a break once in a while.

Some people don’t like it and that’s ok.