To My Dear Andrew... I know you want to leave. I know the horrible, endless walks that you endure every morning... I know the afternoon walks from Hell, and you come home where you sit frozen with fear, praying to just become invisible. I know the stares, and the wounding words behind your back, and the hateful taunts online. I know how it takes every bit of strength you have, just to paint on a smile and pretend you’re OK, and to hide how much it hurts, and to act “normal”. I know that all of this has left you exhausted; that you’ve drugged yourself, and starved yourself in the hope that their voices will become silent and you will be able to finally breathe again. I know that right now, you’d rather leave than live. And even though I’m not standing in your shoes, I’m asking you to stick around. I’m asking you to stay; to endure your incredibly painful, totally senseless now, because I can see your glorious, blindingly beautiful then, if you do. You see, Andrew, if you stick around, your giants will shrink. All those monumental terrorists, whose daily words fall upon you like boulders, will begin to get smaller and smaller and smaller, as you walk deeper into your life. Their names will fade from your memory, their power will be drained to nothing, and those whose opinions and accusations now loom so very large and important to you, will be but specks that you brush from your shirtsleeve, on the way to greatness. If you stick around, you will see just how big the world is, and just how small the minds of those who once tried to ruin you, were. You will understand how much hatred they had for themselves, and see the weakness that tried so hard to look like strength; the insecurity that masked itself as arrogance, and as unbelievable as it is now, you will actually pity them. If you stick around, you’ll eat that cheeseburger; the one that will cause you to make an actual audible noise in public, (and you won’t regret it). If you stick around, you will hear that song that will change your life, and you’ll dance to it like no one’s watching, (and then not care that they are). If you stick around, you will hold babies, and see movies, and laugh loudly, and you’ll fall in love, and have your heart broken, and you’ll fall in love again. If you stick around, you will study, and learn, and grow, and find your calling, and find your place, and you’ll lay in the grass, feeling gratitude for the sun on your face and the breeze in your hair. You will get to university and your dream to be a teacher will come true. And yeah, there will be other stuff too; disappointments and heartache and regrets and mistakes. You will screw things up, and be let down, and you’ll face terrible pain, and you’ll wonder how you’ll ever make it through. But then you’ll remember how you got through the day, and the walks, and the night and you might remember this post, and you’ll realize, “I’m gonna be OK.” So, I guess this is just a reminder, from someone who sees what you may not see from here; the future, one that will be a lot better with you in it. This is a plea and a promise; a dare and an invitation. Stay. Hang on. You are loved. We love you. Things will get better. Trust me. Cry and get angry, and ask for help, and punch a wall, and scream into your pillow, and take a deep breath, and call your friends. But whatever you do… … please… … stick around. Always remember we love you. Mum
Posted on: Sun, 25 Jan 2015 02:24:02 +0000
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