235: Letters to a 16 Year Old Child (1)
To a certain sixteen year old child I first said goodbye to on my seventeenth birthday, but continually talk to,
How did you do it? How did you fall in love with the boy? The boys, I mean. All of them. The first one when you were nine, right up until now. How did you have feelings and love to give when you did not love yourself? How did you do it?
Forgive me, I…I shouldn’t overload you with so many questions. Although, you probably could have handled all of them, I’m just saying.
Sorry, dear. I’m still having a hard time adjusting to being seventeen years of age. I have to think about the person you were, we were, I was, to get a sense of normalcy.
I don’t completely agree with you. I thought you could turn off your feelings, but maybe continual exposure to and interaction with the same person doesn’t really help you move on. I know you accelerated the healing process, because…because I don’t feel anything anymore. I read about your fears, your darkest fears. I don’t think I’ll say them here, but I think you were being a bit irrational. One day, we’ll find someone who loves us for who we are and what our soul is worth. But hey, you didn’t have the HSC looming over you then. You were a free being. You fell in love unsuccessfully. I congratulate you for the experience you have attained. I’m sorry. I wish I could say more, but there’s nothing more to say. I wish I were you again. You were happy, and you were alive. Truly alive. You used to be able to document every feeling, every touch, every sense, everything. You were really quite a remarkable human being. We had all our faults, but, still. You remain one of the best versions of myself, despite everything else people said about us.
I’ll write another letter to you. I have other letters to write, and other things to do. I’ll see you soon. But you always be in my heart, and I will always be sixteen years old.