Dear you,

If  not for your eyes, I wouldn’t really recognise you, you’ve changed so much.I still know you if I look closely past the winged eyeliner and smeared mascara, I know exactly who you were. Its like all these years of fighting for your so-called place in the universe has worn you out and  transformed you  into this being, so brave and yet so lost, so bold and yet so restless.

You are  not who I imagined when I was twelve, I don’t know where you’ve come from. When I was twelve,me at  thirty was  a poised young mother with children tugging along, with  a young handsome  husband, a small and cosy house, a shining car. I forgive you anyway,I forgive you because I’ve seen you lost this dream slowly and  I forgive you because I’ve watched  you breakdown staring at every door shutting in your face and crying because you had love for those children in your dreams and you had a back so strong for any husband there is  and yet the room would always be quiet and empty behind those closed doors. You don’t know what it is, are you too intense for the entire universe? or do you think you’re too good for what you deserve? whatever it is , you have been wrong, you mustve been wrong some point.


Yet you have learned that being wrong was a consequence of being brave and all these years of hiding inside your little timid self you’ve always known, that trusting your blind courage the one you’ve always had as a child was the only way to live  the life you’ve always wanted or the one which you thought was the way to it but was actually the one where you had always belong to, the one you have right now.


It was the only life you could live the best, running around catching trains and chasing the clouds that you can never touch, or the hearts that would never reciprocate your passion,feeling the wind in your hair as you speed past the sea of faces on another unfamiliar road and maybe crying to yourself a little as usual,or drinking the wine which name you can pronounce because it was only the alcohol that mattered  that or absorbing the accents that would fill your head at night with stories that you’ve read as a child.

Yet the beautiful things in life the kind that you enjoy secretly and ironically as grow older are also the beautiful things that eventually make you who you are. Like hot chocolate on a winter night because you enjoyed hot chocolate and because you’re only still getting used to winter.Long quiet train rides on your own where you can watch the sunset calmly,long hot showers, the kind that make you break down in sobs but its ok because no one hears.The laughter of your friends the kind that makes you feel there is goodness in this world, the sound of family from the other side of the phone, the kind that reminds you where you come from and how strong you use to be..the feeling of running your hands through someone’s hair the same feeling that reminds you you are human and no amount of brokenness can stop love or life from overflowing through your fingertips ..and the feeling of being in a new city or another country so different from what you’ve known and inhaling the culture and the people and the madness and slowly becoming someone else, someone that surprises you.

And the not so beautiful ones..the nights spent crying over yet another guy.. or over something you cannot figure out..the same nights you realise you are always so whole and yet so incomplete.. the days spent carrying heavy stuff on your own or fixing  broken equipment or assembling new ones, the kind that make you realise all those years of putting up with men has actually made you probably grow your own pair of balls..Or those sad dinners spent alone, you’ve had so many in so many places that its almost like a ritual you actually enjoy.. and yet these are the moments you fall in love with yourself again.


You are thirty.. you’ve come a long way from being the bright eyed thirteen year old who had nothing but daydreams..You’re probably not who you really want to be  but you are someone for sure and all the tears and the laughter that you’ve given out in the last three decades  must’ve created a tiny spot in the universe.. you will nurture’ve always come to the verge of losing hope but there is no one in this world who can tell you the truth  who you’ll always believe except yourself..So I’m telling you now I haven’t figured it out yet but one day like they’ve always always said.. everything will fall into place.. wait for it.This is thirty embrace it with everything that you have whether or not you are too intense, too stubborn, too careless, too clumsy, too brave, too foolish. You are here now,believe that very moment belongs to you.





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