Dear Lost Little girl,
The holder of dreams. The holder of childlike happiness. The holder of my past.
It feels like a long time ago that I spoke with you. It feels as if what little time we had faded into the background. The more I try to edge more back to you, the further away you seem to be.
I can’t help but feel as if it is my fault — my willingness to forget about you.
You see, you’re a reminder of what I lost, a reminder of who I could have been, — should have been.
I tried to make you fall into the utter darkness, but you always had the light. I covered my eyes so I wouldn’t see your sorrowful yet hopeful face. The betrayal yet the love.
I ran away from you when you were near, said some awful things to you, hurt your little darling heart. I pushed all my devils on you, hoping they’d consume you to the brittle bone. I never wanted to see your face again.
You were too full of hope with too little help. I couldn’t stand the image of you.
I wanted you dead, and buried lower than six-feet. In my eyes, you were the enemy. The one who gave too much hope for a bright future when my future was marred by consumption of crushing self doubt and society built on false hopes and dreams.
I regret that action now. I regret not embracing you when I had the chance. I regret pushing you into the endless darkness while you searched for the way out. I tried to find you one time, but you ran away from me because the darkness was still with me, waiting in the fringe of my increasing despair.
It’s a regret I will have for the rest of my life.
The day the sun broke through the omnipresent clouds was the day I became alive again. I will repay all my debts to you by loving you again little by little, my dear little lost girl, because you’re worth the effort. You’re worth a hundred times more than the self-crushing doubt. We will make it out alive, little princess, because hope is slowly filtering back. The hand of Christ is slowly washing away the grime from your face and taking both our hands, leading us to the life we were meant to live. The life you always dreamed about.
Dear Lost Little Girl
Darlin, you will be found again. You will be alive again. Soon. Very Soon.
Signed,
Lost Older You.