Nine Million

A letter I wrote to a friend, who was in a sexually/emotionally abusive relationship, for her birthday

As people, we are horribly limited. We cannot believe when people say that our lives are entirely up to us as individuals. We can never do everything we want, see the things we want, be everyone we want, or learn all the things we want. We will always fall below the lines of our expectations, but that mustn’t stop us. In fact, that should propel us forward into our futures.

Sometimes memories will taste like bitter cigarettes. You grew flowers in place of your hair follicles. Oh, but he plucked them out. He began with a petal and continued until only stems remain. Now, you must grow back your flowers. Trees spend the entire winter mourning the loss of their leaves, but, each year, they grow back stronger. You are far more than a common weed.

I often wish that I could extend my pocket and place you, gently, inside it. You would rest, nested between cities and stars and other things I want nothing more than to protect.

By the end of today, the words “I love you” will have been said nine million times, and I wish that each of those times were said to you by me. Maybe then you will begin to believe that you deserve all the love in the world.