Once upon a time there was a young girl who didn't have a clue what she wanted to do with her life after college. She had dreams floating around in her noggin', but wasn't quite sure where to find them. She was good in school, getting bad marks only for her distinctively carrying voice.
In her teens she would find old journals that had been dabbled in, but never thoroughly completed. She wouldn't admit her adoration for writing until her college years, through making an earnest effort to keep up with her journals, and posting her thoughts to her peers in a more public forum.
Rewind to her years of off and on diary qualms and insert one interesting 18th birthday gift from her father.
This journal went unused until May 16, 2010, five months after receiving it, when she decided to use it as a way to write letters to people she couldn't find the courage to tell how she felt. Whether confessions about her wrong doings, honest feelings she was scared to reveal, or cries for help from dear ones she could no longer reach in the physical world, she would use these pages as an outlet for her troubled soul.
Today, while she has discovered perhaps a few of the secrets to life that she knew not before, the journal still stands as a beacon of refuge when the world can at times be too much for her to handle.
Which brings us to this moment. 22 days from the biggest leap of faith she will ever take. And she doesn't know where else to turn. These ever so often moments of distress sometimes lead her to look back to old entries, and see perhaps how her prayers had been answered from past despair.
The following letter, while perhaps not changing the mood, put her in a more solemn, calm mindset. Being able to have a way to reach out to her lost uncle, Brian.
5/16/10 11:30 PM
Dear Uncle Brian,
Did you know I loved you? Did you know you were my favorite uncle? Did you know that I wonder what my life would be like if you hadn't been taken from it? Could you have been there for me? Would you have supported me when it seemed that everyone else didn't? Could you have kept them grounded? I wish you could meet me now. would you be proud of my mediocre grades and lack of motivation, even though they aren't perfect or matched with strong athletics and beauty?
Now that I have been thinking about your passing, I realize how hard it was on our family, but is it ok for me to feel this way though I never REALLY had a relationship with you? I wish I could know you. Do you watch over me? I wish everyone could see that I am so completely confused and really need to sort through all of these troubles.
Will you help me?
I love you.
The remaining pages contain prayers, letters, and angsty rants of a teenage girl. All of which have one thing in common: confusion.
She was confused about who she was.
Where she fit in the world.
Why she was the way she was.
Who her friends were.
Who her friends weren't.
How long heartbreak would last.
Why heartbreak happened to her.
What to do with her life and her talents.
What her talents were.
Why everyone cared what she did with the rest of her life.
If only she would have been able to see what so many people constantly tried to tell her.
To surround herself with those who made her happy, those who she didn't feel like she needed to make happy; and that someone, someday would help her realize that she needn't be so concerned about the world around her, but who was right in front of her.
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