A letter of self-appreciation

Dear Me,

I know you weren’t given enough credit for all of the pain you managed to bottle up in the hopes of not losing the people you thought you needed. So, here is a little appreciation letter for surviving the most pathetic year gone by.

You spent last new year’s writing an ode to the year that had then gone by. Somehow, you overlooked the parts wherein you pined for people to surround you and assure you that if not anything or anybody else, there will always be them you could look forward to every new year’s. You spent this new year’s watching the fireworks through your window, too intimidated to be amongst reckless but what seemed like the happiest people alive screaming the countdown at the top of their lungs. You had every scope in the world to have the most fun out there but you loathe the idea of looking forward to a new year with unwavering optimism because you have grown to be averse to hoping; hope has brought nothing but aching ruin to you. Maybe, if you stopped hoping, you would be, if not completely, just a little bit happier. But, here are some things you should know before you step into another chapter of this already failing story.

You were brave this year. It was one quality that you wielded throughout those 365 days that faded steadily like every animation input you added to enhance your frustrating school presentations but nobody troubled themselves to notice or acknowledge them. You were disintegrated into pieces because some fists didn’t care to loosen their grips on parts of you that were delicate. However, somehow you fit all the pieces just right into place and masked the wreckage all over you with pristine perfection. You are brave. No matter if nobody says it to you or if nobody truly means it, you must know that you are brave.

You were diligent this year. Your hard-work and talent after all did pay off. You wrote poems and stories that made someone cry, laugh, strong, inspire, dream, but most importantly, fall in love with art. You made the pretentious and frivolous fall in love with the idea of dreaming and embracing their emotions. Though few viewed you with blinding superficiality and invalidation and broke your deeply-in-love heart in the interim, you were diligent. You are talented. You are hard-working. No matter if nobody says it to you or if nobody truly means it, you must know that you are talented.

You fell in love this year. And you lost it too. You got your heart broken by someone you wished had been by your side this new year’s kissing your hand, telling you he’ll love you forever. You made mistakes but you learned from them too. Not once had you pondered on losing only love, because friendship barely subsisted. You lost an enormous chunk of your happiness but you mended other fragile bonds. You found people who won’t pack their bags and leave you behind after giving you two months of remarkable bittersweet memories to archive in your heart, but a lifetime of calling- you-up-on-unusual-hours-of-the-day-just-to-ask-you-if-you’re-doing-well. You gained lessons- hard-hitting but most integral. You deserve happiness and you deserve love in all forms. No matter if nobody says it to you or if nobody truly means it, you must know that you are loved.

You struggled this year. Your graph declined bit by bit, crushing every ounce of effort you had put in. Nothing you did was valued. You laughed at all the soul-wrenching jokes on you. You gulped at every snide comment targeted towards you that fell in your earshot. You nodded frantically at every reproval because you believed it’s for the best. You sauntered around places with shiny people and took pictures just to have someone like you, and went to bed with an empty face and hollow eyes that cried tears so deafeningly silent. But, you were resilient. You picked up right where everybody left you to decay and started again. You wiped the tears off your face and worked with a spirit barely diminished. No matter if nobody says it to you or if nobody truly means it, you are resilient.

Perhaps, you’re still wallowing in dejection. Perhaps, you’re still locked up in your room writing some weird letter to yourself for “reinforcement”. Perhaps, you’re still scrolling on Instagram hoping your story echoed some glitter and sparkles and fun too. Perhaps, you’re still emphatically acting out hypothetical scenarios in front of the mirror to keep you happy just in delusion. Perhaps, you’re still trying to get over him but failing every single time his face shows up on your phone. Perhaps, you still wish you were one amongst the reckless but what seemed like the happiest people alive screaming the countdown at the top of their lungs. Perhaps, you still wish you weren’t letting all these horrible emotions flood through your constitution. Perhaps, you’re still hoping, as much as you might hate it, that the coming year treats you a bit better. And perhaps, you’re promising yourself that you are going to make it better.
Perhaps, the most pathetic year gone by just made you stronger.
Keep going.

Love,
You.

~ Riddhi Chakraborty

Notes: yes i actually wrote this while i was weeping in my room on new year’s while the dj won’t stop blasting the most horrifying song remixes. happy new year i guess.