Letters to the past.

I remember that night vividly.

Almost as if it just occurred.

Waking up, dim lighted room.

I forgot to blow out the candle.

Third time that week.

My mother told me I’d almost burned down the house two days before.

I won’t tell her I left them burning.

You see when something inside you slips away,

and you’re forced to walk the halls of your middle school,

bestfriend at your side, questioning how much is real.

I’d always told myself that my mask was mine alone.

My mother repeats herself sometimes.

In normal conversations and in her life lessons.

I’ve found that only the words she’d repeat stuck.

I can’t tell you much about why my mother named me Hillary.

Or why now every time I hear it, I feel the pit of my stomach churn.

Middle School,

Shy..

Timid..

Impressionable…

Always wore black,

listened to heavy metal music and hated the color pink.

I was that girl.

Didn’t have many friends to count on, nor did I want them.

Theatre became my refuge,

the stage my safe haven.

Freshman year,

Not much had changed.

I kept telling myself that I’d be like the popular girls.

Skinny..

Pretty..

Athletic…

Smart…

Pretty..

Wanted…

I spent freshman crying over stupid break ups that didn’t mean a damn thing.

Waited in a small water tower town for my happily ever after.

For a prince charming to come out of the wood works,

tell me I was some long lost princess..

Bullshit.

Sophomore and junior year are nothing but a blur.

Maybe that’s because I lost the sense of who I was.

Tried so hard to fit in.

To be something I’m not.

To gain the approval from people who didn’t understand.

You see when I grew up,

My mother taught me that my family was all I had.

And I didn’t even feel like I had them.

You can only imagine how it felt to be a stranger in your own home.

Senior year.. I decided to go by Preston...

Dear Preston, you love peace teas,

can’t stand grammar mistakes even though you make them sometimes.

Horror movies make you laugh mostly because they are so stupid.

You enjoy food but wouldn’t dream of eating an animal.

Your beauty products are cruelty free,

and you admire everything there is about nature.

You enjoy reading,

and would rather be alone with a book than out with friends.

You’ve only recently began love yourself.

You’re a virgo and sometimes you get a little obsessive compulsive.

You can only function in odd numbers, mainly threes,

and you can finally walk out the front door without the dependency of thick black eyeliner or a face covered in makeup.

It’s a shame it took so long,

but I hope you see now that you don’t need a prince, or the acceptance from others to love everything about you. This letter is to you, by you.

I remember that night vividly..

but now it’s nothing but a reminder of who I was and the journey I’ve had to get here.

thank you.