hi. how are you? i guess that’s not a very good question to ask. today i spent hours looking at the sky, composing this letter. thinking about these sort of things keeps you close to me. it’s a sort of comfort for me. i think you’d like to know this, if you could.
i’m not doing very well. that’s the honest truth. i’m not doing badly, but there are a lot of things that are really painful right now. a lot of uncertainty, a lot of hurt.
it’s march. this month marks two years since you died. just stating that simple fact takes courage. i’m so grateful i’ve gotten to build a relationship with your sister, a friendship not defined by the things that happened to you. i’m so grateful i get to dance and perform with her, with the group you loved and put so much into. i love and miss you. it still hurts. on days like today especially. but i can always feel your presence, somehow.
the world is in a frenzy. things are happening, things that simply scare me. i’m a creature of habit. the world is shutting down. it’s illegal to have a group of more than 10 people together now. online school is nice, in some ways. but i miss human connection, even with the people i don’t understand. i crave human interaction. i’m horribly afraid that this will last for months, and then at the end, no one will ever connect again in person.
i’ve started loving again. it’s hard, but worth it. things are complicated. sometimes i think i’m losing them too. but something tells me it’s gonna be okay.
school is a lot. guard was even more. my second mock trial competition went wonderfully. if there’s one thing i’m good at, it’s that. i think you’d have been proud. i’m writng poetry again. i’m working on my plan. working hard. hoping to get a job, doing college classes, applying for scholarships. i want to be a defense attorney. can you believe that? but i want to have children too.
i’m trying. i’m planning my garden, making plans for spring that i know won’t happen. throwing my flag and rifle and dancing my heart out. picking flowers and laughing. letting myself think. writing love letters to myself. tonight i spent hours watching the sky and thinking and singing and resting. it was beautiful. i wear pretty dresses most everyday. i cut all my hair, but i’m growing it again. i can’t wait for summer. i hope beyond hope things are straightened out by then.
the world is still beautiful. i love people uncontrollably. things are terrifying, but i still have hope.
things are hard. but i’m trying. all the memories are overwhelming sometimes. sounds and looks and moments. it hurts.
there’s something better. i know there’s something better.
i miss you. i know one day i’ll see you again.
but ’til then,