A letter to my future self

[kaberett]

It's very odd, this liminal state - this awareness and this tension - though, again, I suppose it is the time of year for it.

But: along with the self-hatred, along with the distance, I am keenly aware, at the moment, that tiny me would... look up to me, would consider me something to aspire to, would consider me one of the cool kids.

Tiny me might be confused by some of the places I've ended up, and would definitely be confused by the routes I've taken to get here, and honestly is mostly in need of a large mug of hot chocolate and an even bigger hug -

- but. But they would be not proud, necessarily, but definitely relieved, I think, and probably somewhat awed - to know that this is how it turns out, so far.

And so, stretched thin in the doorway (or the hallway?) of my selves - looking over my shoulder is one thing, but maybe I can look forward a little way, too, down the paths I will take, and tonight I say: thank you, future me, larger me. Thank you for keeping me safe. Thank you for getting us to where you are. You've done right by us, and I am so, so proud. With all your mess and your scars and your mistakes: I love you, too. Good night. xx

Love after Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

-- Derek Walcott

Comments

[littlebutfierce]

♥ ! (I am not sure what tiny me would think of now-me. Probably a mix of admiration & disappointment, tbh ^^;;; )

Also, I've loved this poem since I stumbled upon it earlier this year, when I badly needed it (I saw a blog where someone posted a tattoo that said "feast on your life" *__* ). Also hahaha I have a weakness for that P!nk song, too (though I wish whoever in my network had posted the video ages ago had also put a trigger warning for self-injury on it ;___; )

[kaberett]

<3

I am one of those DEEPLY uncool kids who fell head-over-heels for every poem we read for GCSE English and resented writing essays on them because they were personal, they were meaningful, and my reactions felt so private that I didn't want to share it. (... which lead to the occasion on which a student teacher tremulously and nervously, on giving one-to-one feedback, asked if I was taking the piss, or if I actually meant it. Bless.)

And -- yes. SO MANY TRIGGER WARNINGS, oh my WORD, but I wept and wept and wept throughout it when first I came across it last winter when I was thoroughly, thoroughly mad, and entirely unmedicated.

Latter Letters in the Lottery of the Selves

[hairyears]

I should read a little more of Derek Walcott: where would you start?

As for a letter to my self and selves: parts of it would be written in apology for the disappointments and the failures; and parts would describe things I have done, and have become, that would be unimaginable or entirely incomprehensible to most of tbose other selves.

Few of them would believe that I have found such beautiful, beautiful people; a few would be astonished that I find beauty in so many, or would know to look; one or two of them would would resent the effort and the results, and I do not regret growing up, and outward, and beyond their disappointments.

Yet these are the face and the faces in the mirror: most of them are worth the smile, and they get it whether tbey like it or not.