Letter to my younger self

Dear younger me, You won’t understand this yet, but the world doesn’t stay kind. You don’t know it yet, but your smile will crack in places, no one can see. You’ll carry weight meant for two instead of one. Still blaming yourself for breaking everyday. One day you will look back, Not with pride, Not with peace, But with a trembling softness for a child who held it all in. Don’t blame yourself for breaking. It wasn’t ever your fault, And would never be your fault. You did your best with what little you had. I remember that day, In your room, Cuddling with your teddies, Crying nonstop, Overthinking, Couldn’t breathe, Wanted to cut yourself, But didn’t. But one day, you will speak louder. One day, The shame won’t fit anymore. You will start learning how to hold the pieces, Even when your hands are bleeding. You’ll smile in photos no one knew you cried after taking. You’ll carry pain like it’s your to fully protect, Apologise for things that were not your fault. Somehow you’ll keep breathing through the weight of everything. You are gonna beg quiet rooms to understand you, But their silence with hurt you way more than any noise ever did. You will smile so wide it cracks your skin, Because that’s what everyone thinks. They’ll call you strong not knowing strength was never a choice, Only what you had to become when no one came to save you. You’ll carry secrets like they’re sacred, When really, They’re just scars that learned to hide. Whenever you try to speak them aloud, Your throat will close around every word. Every time your in a crowded room, You will feel like a ghost. Laughter will echo around you, But never reach quite reach your eyes. People are gonna ask how are you, And if you’re okay. But you’ll say “I’m fine” because explaining the emptiness takes more than you have left. You’re gonna sit with people you love. You’ll ache for someone to just see you. Not your smile, Not the shell, But the breaking beneath. When the night comes, You’ll lie awake beside your own heartbeat, Just wishing it belonged to someone who felt more like home. But sometimes, some mornings. The sky softens just enough, Just enough to let the light in, Not warmth, Just the memory of it. A flower will grow between the cracks, Not strong, Not bright, But it grows. And I stare at it. Wondering how anything survives this. Moments like this I almost forget the ache, A breath that doesn’t shatter, A laughter that doesn’t feel like betrayal. And in those couple of seconds, I think maybe, Just maybe, I’m still here for a reason.