i had a dream i died last night. it had me thinking all day of what i would say/write before i died, if given the chance. i might as well write it in letter form because knowing me, i probably wouldn't speak out of fear that i would start crying once i did.
i feel like someone told me that in regards to the earth's size, 'one size fits all' and to the contrary, i've felt quite the opposite. the earth sometimes felt too big for me and then at times not big enough. whether it was walking the endless concrete of the ghetto or waving to the hurricanes from my grandmother's porch, it's always hard to find shade when you are the sun. and i only refer to myself as the sun because it is my planet, the astrological version of myself within this grand universe. but even if you don't believe in all that, i genuinely had a desire to make those around me happier people. with no ulterior motive in mind. but nobody ever seemed to notice that i only wanted to spread happiness, so some of it could reflect on my own darkness within. but that's all in the past now. and the past is a funny thing because you have to learn from it without living from it. lord knows, it's a skill i haven't mastered but i've been a slave to for far too long.
looking back, i lost a lot of my childhood when things started making sense as an adult. and there are plenty of people to blame but none of that makes it any easier when i look in the mirror and see a woman with so many childlike features. but here i am about to die trying to say something i couldn't find the strength to say when i was alive. maybe i didn't write enough books or enough blog post entries so this letter must suffice.
tell my first love this: i see you wherever i go. it's like i've carried you with me since the first day we spoke. if God made woman from the rib of a man, then he made me out of yours. from your eyes to your nose to your lips, we fit together like puzzle pieces. the only problem is neither of us can figure out what the puzzle turns out to be. so we bounce around between awkward conversations and wishful thoughts trying to find a middle ground between where we are and where we are meant to be. and like God's hands reaching for Adam's on the Sistine chapel's sky, we never quite make it, even when we are reflections of one another. needless to say, i carry you with me and i see you wherever i go...and it just occurred to me what that means. you're a ghost and maybe, quite possibly, the next lifetime is ours.
for my friends who taught me how to believe in God because they are truly angels. if i die tomorrow, it is only because they taught me how to live. you were patient with me, protective of me and loving towards me for absolutely no reason at all or at least not one that i could figure out. i wish there was a better word than 'friend' to describe how much you mean to me. you were strategically placed in my life to save my life and you've given me gifts i can't afford. in the years, months, weeks we've been friends, no act of kindness went unnoticed. you have taught me the meaning of unconditional love.
tell the man i am still trying to love this: i've noticed you are capable of taking care of those around you, but promise yourself that you will let someone take care of you. maybe i'll fall in love with you in a different language on a different continent in a different lifetime. maybe this time around was only to show me that it was possible again, to love wholeheartedly and to love purely. maybe we were only given this time to teach me that love exists whenever i'm ready to grab hold of it. i'm dying tomorrow so your lips will be the last kiss i taste and your pillow will hold the last of my sweet dreams. you will be the last man to ever make love to me under the blanket of discretion and no named relationships. i have given you all i have left and what you do with it is entirely up to you. just do me one favor. remember everything, the time we danced in the bedroom, spoke on the phone for hours and saw the sun rise in the crevices of our collarbones. remember it all because memories don't live like people do. they don't die like we do either.
and to whoever will console my daughter, tell her nothing about me until she can read it for herself. i want her to know her mother first before she hears about me. there are enough rumors that the dead cannot defeat and she, in all of her innocence, should be spared. but in case i didn't leave enough 'i love yous' to last her throughout her life, let her read this: I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE AND EVEN IN DEATH. YOU ARE LIVING PROOF THAT I AM STILL HERE. LIKE I CARRIED YOU IN MY WOMB, CARRY ME IN YOUR HEART FOREVER AND ALWAYS.
to my weeping parents, you should never know what it is like to bury your own child. but as the child, growing up and thinking you were superhuman i could never imagine either of you closing your eyes and never opening them again. so maybe in the shock of my death, it was better this way. you know how fragile i am so death makes sense and i know how strong you are so living your life, even when i'm gone, sounds just about right.
grandma, i really hope your God accepts me if for no other reason than because you always have.
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