A letter from February 21st, 2021

okay. so. i'm 20. but i don't need a reminder of that, i suppose. it's over a year since i'm writing this, alone in a dimly lit living room that's been stripped of furniture for renovation. i don't know if i'll remember this, but it's worth saying. it is 10:32 at night and i feel as if with my teenage-hood coming close to an end, my entire fragile, angsty persona is bound to shatter. i mean, i knew it was not whom i was supposed to be forever, but growing up is really absolutely terrifying the **** outta me. it's. ****. i don't know how long it has been since i've felt peace but i am getting close to it. i'm inching forward, one step at a time, i'm taking being alive one day at a time. it's funny. once i was the chirpiest person in the room and now i'm. i don't know what i am still. i mean, i'm 18 years old and i still don't ******* know who i am and what i am and what is the meaning to *my* life. screw 'what is the meaning of life' because its so much more complicated than an answer can fathom. so many philosophers have tried their hardest to crack this code. one answer can never really satiate the human thirst to know the meaning of life. i'm taking a break from relationships (don't know how long) and i hope you're happy, 20-year-old me, with a partner that admires you and understands you and loves you and respects all of you, every part and every bit and every single thing about you and i hope you do the same for 'em. nobody is worth sacrificing your independence and freedom and happiness and just in general anything over. i hope you have a partner who is worth *you*. don't ever settle for anyone that isn't completely and perfectly worth it. and set boundaries. and be clear about them. and idk, treat them like they are precious too, because you are worth twice your weight in gold and so are they. i hope you're still in college and i hope you're, y'know, putting in all the hard work and effort and getting the grades and being social and meeting and making friends and putting yourself out there and just adding feathers to your resume everyday and i hope you're doing your internships and your jobs and your studies amazingly and i hope you're holding on for dear life to everything that shall give you knowledge and true fulfilment. and i hope you are reading a lot lot more that 18 year old you did, with her miserable attention span in the middle of the ******* pandemic. and i dearly hope you're less pretentious about it. and me. i'm on pause. what does that mean? it means i'm really cutting myself some of that fresh, lovely slack and letting go of things i cannot control. apparently it's called being mentally stable and sane?//never heard of it but i'm trying to get there and i hope you've reached there. so what is going on, this fine evening on february the 21st, the year of our lord two-thousand-twenty-one? well, i've finally started socialising again and i've made some new friends. i'm not gonna write their names because what if, yknow. anyway. my top played spotify playlists atm are: 'lifesource,' favourite beatles' songs 'shut the **** up, its real music,' classical music 'live forever?,' emotional britpop 'everything is changing and i'm scared of it,' how true '**** it nostalgia,' pop-rock from childhood and my favourite songs atm are: 'you turn me on, i'm a radio,' by joni mitchell 'fluorescent adolescent,' by AM 'there is a light that never goes out,' by the smiths 'nfr,' by lana del rey 'one last time,' by summer salt but obviously music tastes change. right now i got a joni mitchell-van morrison-acoustic indie phase and western classical music going on, but last year it was grunge, they year before that was jazz-and-80s-rock which is probably the strangest combination ever, and a few months before today was obscure indie, and rock. my favourite book atm is catcher in the rye. i read it so long ago but every word stuck with me and when i feel so utterly miserable i think of the protagonist's sister, phoebe. she reminds me of joey. my favourite band atm are the smiths. soulful and joyless and captivatingly painful. speaking of painful, how is zal? how are any of the exes for that matter? there's so much going on right now. i am healing. and you know what they don't tell you about healing? it ******* sucks. it hurts so much. you've gotta get that crying child stuck inside of you and get it to shut up and calm down and love it so **** much and let it be free and do what it could never do-be happy. you have to let that **** misery out. you've gotta get that angst-ridden fifteen-year-old breaking down over a lana del rey song out of you. you're not a kid anymore. you gotta let go of all these **** things and it ******* hurts. you know what they don't tell you about healing//it isn't all sunshine and flowers and nature. it's a lot of going deep down in yourself and allowing yourself to be vulnerable again, despite that fear of getting hurt. am i done healing? hell no. there's so much to heal. but i can see that tiny bit of light at the end of this tunnel and i'm not going to run towards it. i need to walk. i can't rush. there's no point in rushing. the more i run towards it the farther it will get. i have to walk slowly. carefully and confidently and knowing that there's going to be some painful moments but that it'll finally bring me peace. i'm getting healthier by the day and forgiving people that have done me wrong and trying to understand where they came from because nobody that ever hurt anybody came from a happy place. they came from a world of hurt and their own sufferings. take breaks from social media, you deserve to feel happiness and god knows your eyes need it. yep. you are 20. ****'s real. hope you finally got over yourself and learned how to ******* drive. teens are over. too soon, man. i'd just developed the ******* personality i've ever had. it's a new chapter, a new leaf and a new start. happy 20-ing and all the best.