When she turned fourteen, a letter arrived for her in the
mail. There was no address, either for the sender or recipient; how it arrived
successfully, she wasn’t sure. But there was no mistake about the name that was
written neatly on the envelope—the contents inside were for her.
She
thought that the handwriting seemed familiar.
She
didn’t open it, not at first. She dismissed its existence, diverting her
attention to the more exciting packages wrapped in brightly coloured paper. It
wasn’t until the sun had gone down, and the special day was all but over, when
she found it again, abandoned on the floor. She tore the envelope open, not
giving much care for its contents...until she unfolded the paper inside.
One letter,
not half a page long, written neatly on a piece of lined paper torn out of a
notebook. The curves in the writing mimicked hers exactly—she herself had
written this letter.
Or
would write it, eventually.
Smile, it said. Be brave. Be fearless. Don’t check that mirror in your locker; you look
fine. Don’t worry about that boy that sits two desks over from you in math; he
isn’t worth your time.
And, finally, you are you. You
are as perfect as you ever will be and ever have been. Your best qualities are
infinitely better than your worst flaws.
Do not fear yourself; embrace
yourself.
Love, You.
She
went to bed with a smile that night, the mysterious letter taking precedence in
her mind over the most extravagant of birthday presents that year.
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
No comments:
Post a Comment