You

To the past versions of ourselves

I wish I could tell you
that everything will be easy.
That no night will leave you awake and afraid,
that no moment will ever feel unbearable.

I wish I could tell you
you’ll never make mistakes you replay for years,
never say words you wish you could take back,
never watch someone you love walk away hurting.

I wish I could tell you
that grief will pass you by,
that the people you love will stay forever,
that your heart will never learn what absence feels like.

I wish I could tell you
that happiness is something you arrive at once
and never lose again.

But I can tell you this:

You will survive the nights
you are certain will break you.
You will learn that fear does not mean weakness,
only that you are stronger than you ever imagined.

You will fail, and fail again,
and become wiser for it.

You will hurt people sometimes,
but you will learn how to apologize,
how to grow,
how to carry regret without letting it turn you cruel.

You will lose people you love.
And because you know they cannot stay forever,
you will hold them closer while they are here.

You will find happiness,
not the permanent kind from stories,
but real happiness:
brief and beautiful, enough to keep going.

And after everything,
after all the years between us,
I need you to know this most of all:

I am trying.
Every day, I am trying
to become someone
you would look at
and be proud to call yourself.