Love Letters from Yours Truly

a brief death,

the end and beginning, both.

a death too long, i hold on tight.

a death too short, i lose control.

Your smile is engraved into my mind. Somehow you've become a symbol in my life that I revisit often. Each time, I feel a tug at my throat-strings. Soft vibrations pushing me to say something, sing even. Each time, I feel so silly that I ever forgot.

Past midnight in riverside, the only place open late enough to satisfy my cravings for full-belly comfort.

Grumpy, sad, procrastinating probably. I don't even know what I ordered.

I pulled up to the window, and you looked at me with wide eyes and the kind of smile that made me forget where I was. It was ENORMOUS. Your voice was light, airy, and full of....joy. In my mind you're wearing yellow.

People talk sometimes of having seen god, having seen signs from god, even speaking to them. Perhaps calling you god would be a bit hyperbolic, even for me.

I hope you're doing so well. I hope you're a symbol for your own self too.

yours truly,

if you believe:

"i must be special, in order for people to want me, or want to know me, or be with me"

"i must be the best, at everything, or they will probably feel like they are settling, my family will be disappointed, my friends embarrassed"

"every part of my life has room for improvement, which means i am not at my best, which means i need to change in order to be good"

if you fear:

maybe i'm not truly loved.

a magnificent sculpture stands tall.

a darkened, wrinkled face on the body of a woman who lived.

beautiful.

once a sunflower, always searching for the sun.

some days i forget about all the love you've poured into me.

on those days, i forget more, more often.

when i build up the strength to put my 'scroll' away, an enormous weight falls on my shoulders. it hurts sometimes. its just there other times.

the weight pushes my head down onto my desk. i have no choice but to look around.

i notice the fresh flowers you bring me nearly every other week. i notice the love notes from you. and you. and you too. the stone that 'protects' me. the stress boba i squish. the baby plant that refuses to die despite my neglect.

so many little reminders. weeeeeeeeeee

so much joy in the word we.

thank you, baby loves.

yours truly,

dear squishy lil marshmallow,

your attention is precious. powerful. whatever you choose to give it to shines, grows, roots itself into your moments.

when you wake up,

when you feel anxious,

when you don't know what to do with yourself...

in all the moments your mind scrambles and reaches for something to attach itself to,

in all the moments your heart flails to stay afloat as your worries flood your being,

where does your attention go?

distraction breeds distance. distance breeds distraction.

next time, squeeze your lil fingies, take a deep breath, and re-mind your mind. you're okay where you are lil marshmallow.

yours truly,

How does a feeling like this arise? Self-love, self-hatred, self-criticism? 

It’s a feeling that creeps through my being, slowly but surely, encapsulating my perception so that every thought, every breath, every desire becomes rooted in a deep questioning of my worth.

Why do I drop everything, spend too much, breathe too little, just to make sure they feel cared for?

Why do I lay in bed, for hours sometimes, feeling completely frozen and overwhelmed?

Why do the sun and the sky and the trees bring me so much peace?

Why does there always seem to be something more I could do, more I could achieve, more I could contribute?

Why does food bring me comfort? Does it bring me comfort? Or am I distracting myself with a delicious sensation? Over and over again, until I’m so full I might burst.

Why does my reflection in the mirror speak with such little compassion? Doesn’t she see me?

Dear me,

my inclination is to point out how far you’ve come, but what does that really matter? does it truly bring you solace to know you’re less sad than you were back then? maybe it does.

i won’t tell you that simply existing is enough. i won’t tell you that noticing the little moments, the complicated feels, the connections around is enough...that not achieving anything more than what you have so far is enough. all these words seem to dissipate long before they reach your mind. we live in a society, after all.

i’ll remind you of this instead: every step you take on this earth is a step that’s never been taken before. every moment of eye contact is a moment in which you can see someone who, like you, wonders about their presence. every gentle touch is an acknowledgement of your existence within a body. a body that has carried you this far, healed you, and continues to give you a means for experiencing life. every thought, harsh or kind, has been thought by millions like you. every sorrow, every pleasure, every worry, is a shared one. when you reach out for comfort, you are reaching out to a world that is reaching back for the same. 

today, i love you. a lot. 

yours truly,