A version of this letter spoken to camera can be found on my Instagram @our.happy.notes
Last night I dreamt of you. And it’s hazy, in the way that memories of dreams often are, but I remember the premise. You had disappeared. I had woken up one day and you had disappeared. And whenever anyone asked me what I wanted, at a restaurant or in life, all I could reply was that I wanted you.
You see, I used to be so afraid of you. I’m not anymore. Not like I was. But sometimes I wonder if I’ve gone the other way, or a different way, and now I’m obsessed with you. Maybe you’re obsessed with me. Whatever it is I know you take up far too much of my time, and the dream – well it made me think perhaps we were due another conversation.
Here we go again, aye? You just couldn’t give it a rest, could you? I mean it’s partly my fault. Or our fault. No, my fault, or – well sometimes it’s hard to separate us out really. The things you say to me, have the nerve to say to me, they are something else. Living in my thoughts, daring to breathe the air that I do, rent free – well, not anymore. I will not allow those thoughts to become my emotions and my behaviours anymore. And now I sound like a therapy book! Spitting out these promises that really mean nothing without the actions you try so very hard to impair. Screw it, that’s a good thing. It means I’m learning. And the more I learn, my friend, the less power you have. You wouldn’t believe how much the thought of that thrills me.
Now look, ok, look, I’ve wondered for a while now, been turning it over in my mind, so I’m just going to have to come out and say it – I wonder if secretly you’re on my side. Our side. Humanities side as a whole. And don’t, because I can feel you laughing at me, and I know you’re far too vain, devilish, frankly destructive to admit it, but hear me out. The best people I have ever met are the ones you have brushed against. The strongest, and most courageous people. The kindest. What’s more, the ways you alter our brains, force us to work to move beyond you, I’ve seen first hand how that can change the world – how it revolutionises through our daring to move outside of the box. And on those occasions, many occasions really, that you happen to take those wonderful people away (you lying bastard) – it shows the rest of what needs to be changed in the world. So maybe, just maybe, you’re not all that bad. Then again, maybe it’s just our fighting spirit, the one you highlight in us. Either way, I refuse to believe that your hopelessness breeds only more darkness – my dear I will transform you into light, like I already am, and I’ll marvel at that process every step of the way.
Tried to tell me this one was a solution didn’t you. And god I want to kick myself sometimes for being so naïve, for not seeing your tricks earlier, because I know, I know, that’s the way you work. And yet I also know it’s not too late. It’s never too late. I see the beauty in you. And I really do enjoy annoying you by saying that. Let me thank you again for all your lessons, your opportunities to grow, and this time for your chaos. From that fire I fashion creativity, hope, and… so much more. In an almost paradoxical way, the part I appreciate most in myself is you. You make everything else worthwhile. You make every other bit of me stronger. I mean, I hate you, I loathe you, I battle with you every day, and let’s not fail to mention that I am exhausted, but I am not finished yet.
Well I don’t really have much else to say today. I guess I just wanted to check in with you. I hope you’re struggling, like I do. That would mean we’re growing. Because this is the time. This is my time.