letters to the person i was (Edited Font)
Page 1
letters to the person I was
copyright © 2019 by Sana Abuleil. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews.
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ISBN: 978-1-5248-6083-7
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for me. for every version of me.
a note from the author
let me explain.
this book is the way i say, “you didn't break me.” it's the way i look fear in the eye and tell it, “i did what you said i couldn't. i did it, and i did it loud.”
let me explain. when i was a little girl, i realized quickly that having a heart bigger than most meant i could carry pain heavier than most. when i was a little girl, i was introduced to depression, anxiety, and trauma. my best friend had begun self-harming, and my growing mind couldn't quite grasp the dangers of the situation. instead, i thought i could heal her. i thought i could make her better. i thought if i could just be there for her, that if i could just stay on standby—day and night—then she would be okay. so we started a tally. one tick in my yellow notebook for every day she could go without making herself bleed.
she never got past 87. and my heart shattered every time. i blamed myself every time.
let me explain. i was caught in a situation where i was setting myself up for heartbreak. where with every fresh wound, i'd tell myself, “you could've stopped it.” but i couldn't have. i couldn't have, and i know that now. my heart is big. but i couldn't have.
after years of dealing with these feelings, after years of blame and guilt and misery, i finally began to realize that i was not responsible. that i tried my best, that i loved her wholeheartedly, and that i needed to walk away regardless. that i needed to put myself first—something i was never really taught. but something i needed to learn. and that's what this book is. it's a learning process. it's trying to work through emotions that have piled up over the course of twelve years. it is, for the first time, replaying it all in my head. willingly. it is learning what it means to forgive, what it means to move on, and what it means to love.
this book is learning that healing is not linear. that it is a back and forth pull. it is learning to be okay with it all, but also learning that not okay is okay, too. this book is where i put it all behind me.
this book is where i let it all go.
with love,
sana abuleil
may you find words here
that extinguish the fire of your pain
and keep the flame of your hope burning.
contents
the innocence
the refusing
the understanding
the growing
i was 12.
i was not okay.
i was 12
when she picked up her first knife
dragged the blades across her skin
and watched the blood
stain the sink
with a smile on her face
and tears on mine.
i was 12
when i grew up way too fast.
i was
her punching bag
her stand-in therapist
her medication.
i was 12
when i carried the weight of the world
on my shoulders
for her.
i was 12
when my friends stopped recognizing me.
i was 12
when i stopped recognizing myself.
now
do you know what it feels like
to carry all the world's blame
in the creases of your heart?
because i do.
i was 12
when i started filling up notebooks
with the catastrophe i was.
i grew up when
i was 12.
i knew reality better than i should have.
i knew sadness better than most.
i was 12
when heartbreak stopped being a word
and started becoming a state of self.
a state of mind.
but this story
it isn't heartbreak.
it isn't helplessness
hopelessness
or misery.
this story isn't about her.
or you.
it's about me.
this story is my mind
and the tornado it is.
it is the thoughts i have pushed back
and locked away
in an empty corner of my brain
thinking they'd eventually decompose.
but i was wrong.
they only grew bigger
and stronger
until the doors couldn't handle all the weight.
this story is the words i should have said.
not to her.
or you.
but to me.
this story is healing.
03/14/2008
you're a fool for hope
a sucker for second chances.
you trust
and you believe
until you're high off a belonging
that isn't really yours to feel.
until you're drunk off cheap acceptance
that isn't actually real.
until you throw up words
that are meant for only you to hear.
but you can't help yourself
because they promise you things
you've spent too long searching for
but they lie.
and i'm sorry that you'll have to
pick up the pieces of your glass heart
on your own.
03/29/2008
there's so much purity
in you
the way you hold out your hands
asking for more
happiness
or any happiness at all.
the way you pour rubbing alcohol
in your wounds
thinking they'll heal
that you won't have to feel them again
or see them again.
there's so much innocence
in who you are
thinking your voice is heard
thinking your words matter
thinking they might just listen
to what you have to say.
except they'll never hear you
with a voice so fragile.
but i know you'll destroy
your vocal chords
trying anyway.
> 04/02/2008
“i'll give you the world”
you say to all the people
you meet and learn to love.
but you keep giving
until there isn't anything
left for you.
until you feel an emptiness
inside you
that you never felt before.
until you get to know
the places in your heart
where an entire galaxy
once lived.
and you stay up
night after night
trying to fill the space
with things that cannot stay
like poetry
old love letters
and saved messages.
but the memory
of the worlds you gave away
will always remain.
05/12/2008
i don't know why
you gravitate
toward the ones
who don't know your worth.
but you do.
every time.
and maybe it's because
you don't know either
but let me tell you.
you aren't gold
and you aren't diamonds.
you're a van gogh original
your mother's old photo album.
but you keep falling in love
with people who think you're replaceable
who mistake your kindness for obligation.
who misinterpret your mind
for anything less than complex
messy
but so damn perfect.
i hope you let go of these people.
i hope you don't wait until they let go of you.
05/27/2008
you have this bad habit
of wanting
of holding your hands out
wide-eyed
expecting everyone you meet
to give you a little bit of
gentleness
warmth
and comfort.
and they do
sometimes
but it never lasts
because you have this bad habit
of wanting
more and more
never really happy
with what you get
and you don't know why.
but i do.
i think you search for things
in other people
that you'll only find in you.
and i think
it's messing with your head.
06/24/2008
the day you learn
you're on your own
will be a hard one.
when they grow tired
of your crazy
you'll wonder
why you aren't like them.
why your head isn't quiet.
why your laugh isn't louder.
but it's okay.
it's okay.
i think it'll be okay.
because i think they'll wonder
why they're not
a little more like you.
07/07/2008
i started writing this
thinking i could convince you
to sleep when the clock hits 12
because i know you're up
fingers curling
searching for a hand to hold
that's never there.
but i'm here now too
and it's 5 past 12:00
and i won't sleep either
so instead
i want to tell you that i'm proud of you
for putting yourself before them
for letting yourself hurt
if it means they'll heal
and i know it's not always a good thing
and i know it's not always a bad thing either
but there's something about your heart
the way it smiles
even when your lips can't.
so rest your head
and if you won't sleep
then we'll stay up together
and i won't let your fingers curl
around this emptiness.
i'll hold your hand until the sun rises
and you won't feel it
i know
because you haven't read my letters yet
but it's okay.
i'm here anyway.
rest your head.
07/13/2008
you've been told
you love like whales drink ocean water
that you open too wide
take in too much
too quickly.
you've been told
that you chew off
more than you can swallow
that you love too hard
too overwhelmingly
that you spit up kindness
and no one knows what to do with it all
how to take it
remold it
and give it back
but i know you
and i know you don't want it back.
i know you don't love so you can take
you love so you can learn new ways to give.
08/01/2008
i bet he has brown eyes
and a smile that reminds you
of the diamond ring
your father bought you
and the way his face lights up
every time you wear it.
and he probably has pretty words
and you'll most likely fall for them
because well
you have pretty words too
and you'll think it's meant to be.
he probably thinks he understands you
but i don't think he will.
i think he'll say he does
because he thinks you're easy to fool
because that's kind of
what your poetry says about you
doesn't it?
anyone who writes about worry
and heartbreak
and sadness
has to be easy to fool
otherwise there wouldn't be
much of those things
in the first place
right?
i bet you won't believe me though
because i'm still waiting to see if i'm right
to see if he really does have brown eyes
and if he does
i think i'm going to get lost in them
along with his pretty words
and the way he memorizes my poems
and i'm probably going to be devastated
when i realize it isn't really love
but i'm kind of hoping that
the one with brown eyes
will prove us both wrong
so i guess we'll figure this one out
together.
08/09/2008
“people aren't hospitals”
you whisper to yourself
as you use
their fingers as splinters
their arms as bandages
and
their words as prescriptions.
“people can't heal you”
you keep telling yourself
as you run your fingers
through their hair
collecting strands
to turn into thread
trying to stitch cuts
that haven't healed
over the years.
&nbs
p; “people aren't home”
you say out loud
as you're on your knees
cutting keys and installing locks
in those
that have no intention of staying
and this
this is where you keep losing yourself
and this
this is why you keep hurting.
09/26/2008
in this part of the story
i'm supposed to tell you
about all the times
you've mistaken people
for good
when they were nowhere near
and how your naivety is beautiful
and it is
don't get me wrong
but my pages are always blank
when i try to write you this part
because i don't really remember
what it feels like
to have faith in a world
that looks like this one
and to have a piggy bank heart
taking when they give
because you think they do it out of kindness
until they break you to pieces
to take it all back.
i don't remember what it's like
but that doesn't mean i don't see good here.
i do
i do
i swear i do
even if it takes me a little longer
to find it.
01/11/2009
and there's this pain somewhere
in your heart maybe
that will be the end of you
whether you believe me or not
because i know you can't breathe
with an entire universe
sitting on your chest
and you can't breathe
when you're in love
with an ocean
that fills your lungs with salt water
every time you inhale
but it's gotten to the point
where you'd rather drown
in love
than suffocate without it.
but there is no in between here
there never has been.
but oh
how you'll wish there was.
02/23/2009
she hurt you and you loved her.
but there were days
you wanted her to fall
because you thought it would change her
thought it would make her realize
that you could heal her
if only she let you
but she never did