This is for the girl with anxiety. For the one with dry eyes and big dreams and a relentless spirit. For the one that is her own worst enemy and her only friend. For the one that reading this has felt the tremor of every fleeting emotion and yet, feels nothing at all.
For the one that yearns to fill her days with explosions of love, hurricanes of passion and a rainfall of peace. For the one that knows that it doesn’t matter how slowly you go as long as you don’t stop, but how much longer and will she ever get there?
This is for the girl whose pulse sometimes feels like a rocket headed for space but trapped in her body. The one that feels the vibration of every noise with every fiber of her being and it hurts, but she trusts that one day her body will learn— the danger is gone.
This is for the girl that has spent too many a day on a battlefield with her thoughts — running away from them or tirelessly accepting, making promises or greeting threats.
Who has always taken a double portion of responsibility and twice the guilt because she lives life in parallel. A life of endless dilemmas that tear you apart; a part of you is here but the other always somewhere far away in the realm of better possibilities.
This is for the girl that sometimes feels utter exhaustion without having done a thing at all, because that’s what living in her head feels like.
For the one that has used up all of her energy to try and remain calm, and is now angry because she’s got mountains to climb, rivers to swim in and rainbows to walk over.
For the girl that has tossed and turned and tossed and turned and there isn’t a cold corner of her bedsheets left that she can cling to. For the girl who has jiggled with the threat of death in her head, while her body has faithfully carried on with the day.
For the girl that is small and tiny but is actually a kingdom for three: her fear, her thoughts and her loving heart. And to the one that has spent most of her days trying to make it a harmonious trio.
For the girl that knows this to be true, but refuses it to see it as a sad story. For she is not a victim. But is grateful instead for her chance to grow and become her own master. She still feels the bliss in every day and slows down to smell the roses. She never forgets to thank God for every waking day. For that hero of a girl. Yes, to you I want to say— I see you, I feel you, I believe in you.
Your darkness is my light. The places that scare you, the situations that dare you, they glare you. They make you real and living and true. How you build yourself over and over again, with the rise of dawn every morning despite what the night had brought, how you keep trying to accept yourself despite the voices that tell you, you are hard to love. How you hope against hope, and hold tight and always breathe new life to your extinguished fire — that to me is beauty and meaning and strength. You are the first star to appear оn the night sky and defy the darkness, you are the pearl oyster covered in stardust in the debris of the sea, you are the graceful ballerina that keeps on dancing on a tightrope despite her pain.
You know not what you do, but trust me if there is one thing that brings light to this world, it is you.