Letter #4: Brave

Dear you,

“All my life, I wish I broke mirrors, instead of promises. ‘Cause all I see is a shattered conscience staring right back at me.”

-Owl City lyrics

If you knew I was writing this letter to you, you would laugh. You would tell me not to be sappy and sentimental. You would sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. And you would probably pretend that you’re okay.

But you would still say thank you, and might even send me a virtual hug. Thanks in advance.

And you’re not okay. You don’t have to pretend that with me. The façade is slightly convincing, dear; I’ll give you that. But sometimes your mask slips. Sometimes, at 11:30 PM, the façade starts to be less convincing. I go for days without hearing from you, and then I’ll randomly hear from you, hearing that you’re eating jelly beans and questioning every supposition you’ve ever held.

You don’t know. That is your mind right now. You aren’t sure who you are. You aren’t sure why you’re here. You aren’t sure who or what God is. And you aren’t sure what that “God” would want to do with your past. You aren’t sure if any of the people around you have really known “God”, because a lot of people are fakes. And you don’t want to be a fake. You want to feel, and you want to understand, and you want to know, and you want to be. That’s all. You want to be, and you want, in your being, to be at least somewhat…un-fake. Legitimate. Real.

Even if it means discarding every supposition and preconceived religious notion in your head, you want to be a real person. You don’t want to deny your humanness. You want to have compassion for other humans. Whatever “answer” you find, you want it to enable you to be beautifully transparent and humbly real.

I want you to know that I already see you like that. Some days I can taste the apathy in your words; you hate how fake everyone is. Some days I can feel the fear in your voice; you aren’t sure where your searching will lead. But everyday, I marvel at what a beautiful person you are. You have been real with me. You have been reserved in your authenticity, in your signature INTP way, but nevertheless: you have been authentic. And it is beautiful. You’ve shouldered my pain with me; you’ve let me shoulder yours’. You’ve irritably asked every question; you’ve bravely searched for the answers. You’ve heard my dark secrets; you’ve showed me that I am not a dark person. You’ve hugged me and told me you loved me, just once. And I hugged you right back and told you I loved you too, just once, because you are an incredible person. Your soul is beautiful. Struggles never cheapen the value of a soul.

And of course you don’t see yourself like that. But let that spark out every once in a while. I know you’re brave enough.

And yes, I am being sappy and sentimental. Some sappy things are just worth saying.

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