To my dear sis I’m not sure how you are. I hope, I pray, with everything I am that you are good. You are happy. Maybe you’re just fine; maybe you feel better than I think. Perhaps you feel worse. Maybe I don’t know. Maybe the words I wish to say and the messages that I’m conveying are wrong. They’re not what you needed to know? The chances I will take to see that you are okay; they know no bounds and so I’ll take a risk. I’ll write it out. I’ll wish that your heart becomes full and heavy with life once we’re done. And know now that it’s okay if you don’t know what to say. It’s okay if you can’t really respond just yet. It’s even okay if you don’t quite get it all. As long as you read what I am saying and you feel it. It’s enough for me, you’ll always be enough for me. You see, I feel a lot, I’ve felt a lot. But I am limited in how I can express myself. I’m not very good at saying things, I’m not very good at showing them. I can muster a letter though. That’s the beauty of writing, of words. You can really say it all without hindrance. And so you will have to bare with me, please. It’ll be long. It’ll be drawn out, and there will be times where maybe I don’t make much sense. I promise I’ll convey it all though, all my feelings. So just, stay till the end. It’s okay to feel locked up. Like there isn’t a way to say what you want to say. Like nobody will understand anyway. Like they won’t care. Like it’ll bug them. Like it’ll make you a target or a patient. It’s okay to feel negative. It’s alright to feel sad. Frustration and anger, it’s all okay. It’ll make you tired though, it’ll make you feel so heavy if you try to hide it. When you shoulder the world all on your own. It’s exhausting. And you’ll do your best and sometimes you’ll do your worst and the most important thing that I can tell you is this: When you feel hollow and alone in a room of people. Or you feel like you’ve been shouting what you need but nobody has listened. When you find yourself at the very bottom of the pit and all resolve has left you. I want you to know that you’ll find something. It’ll be gradual. It might take months. Maybe even years. But you’ll find it. Or more like, it’ll find you. It’s a slow growth. You won’t spot it right away; but one day you’ll just know. As if it was always right there beside you and you just never noticed it. It’ll come. You’ll love it, it will fill you up. Every gaping hole that you’ve found will slowly fill up. The darkness will slowly fade and the sadness will stop visiting. You won’t cry anymore, for no reason or any reason at all. Instead you’ll think of it, or them, and you’ll be happy. You’ll be motivated and brimming with life. You’ll want to live. Like I said, and it’s important that you’re patient, for some of us it’s a long time. It’s a journey of healing and bruising and healing and fighting and then one day it just isn’t like that anymore. It becomes a rose coloured sunset on a warm summer day. It’s magical and it’s worth all the heat you went through to get it. So when you don’t know, when you aren’t sure what it’s all for, the next time. Don’t think. Just breath. Take the time you need. Be alone, be together. Stand strong and face it head on. Take the shoulders that are leant. Don’t be afraid of it. Don’t be afraid of anything because, my dearest sister; Whatever it is that life throws at you and whatever you throw back. I will always, always be there. When you need me and when you don’t. When you ask for me and when you tell me to go away. I will always, ALWAYS, be here. Whether we are close or far apart. Always. For you are that something that has filled my holes. The sunset that I will cherish. Until you find what your sunset is, I will be here. And then after. Love Georgia
