Illeana, My 35-Year-Old Self

Hello, buddy. How have you been for the past 20 years?

Are you still alive, by the time that you’re reading this? Or is it just being read ate your funeral by either your mother, or your special someone or your daughter? Were you able to decide well on which path you will take for college?

Were you able to finish your studies and find a decent job? Were you able to fulfill your dreams for your family and for yourself? Were you able to overcome all the anxiety and sadness you have in your soul? Were you able to believe in yourself now? Do you love yourself?

If the answer is yes, then I want to say that I’m very proud of you. Twenty years ago, you’re this girl who doesn’t want to receive compliments from other people but when you do, you use it as your will to live.

You’re this girl who doesn’t value herself that much. You’re this girl who looks at herself as a garbage. You’re this girl who doesn’t say no in every favors of the people around you.

You’re this girl who harms herself as a way to feel something other than pain inside. You’re this girl who tends to cry over little things. You’re this girl who is not a good friend or daughter. You’re that girl, Illeana Arwen.

But after years, I am happy to know that you’re all fine now. You’re doing such a good job. If the case is that, you have your own family now, then look at your daughter, right at this moment, look how much she resembles you – the way she acts and talks, the way she treats people in her life. It’s so much of you. Aren’t you proud of yourself for being able to survive all the years of breakdowns and see this beautiful girl in front of you?

Aren’t you proud of yourself for being able to find someone who loves you more than anyone now after going through a lot of heartbreaks? If not, then be proud. Because that’s such a great improvement from you – keep going, doktora.

But if the answer is no, then, that;s very sad to hear. Because after all these years, why can’t you still let go? It’s all part of your past now, and it will keep on haunting you if you’ll not accept it. Accept it, learn from it and move on. Half of your life is wasted because you were scared of change, the unfamiliarity of the real world.

Let go, Illeana. It’s not gonna help you, think if the child and man that should’ve been there with you, loving you unconditionally and taking care of you. Let go and live your life. It’s already 35 years of your life. There are more years, but you’ll never know when your time is, so even if it’s hard – live.

Most probably, the answer will be yes. But maybe, the perfect life that “Yes” offers aren’t the exact life I will have if that is the answer. I doubt it. I doubt that the Illeana will just keep herself in the jails of past and darkness. I doubt it, because I believe in her. I believe in you. I believe that you’ll be able to overcome everything that will come in your way. I doubt that you will not be able to read this, maybe with your child or someone special. I doubt it.

But again, if ever this is read in front of the people of my life, because, I am inside this white box, laying like a sleeping beauty, with a white dress, long curly hair and a light make up, then I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not fighting, because I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry if I chose to give up. I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to see the real rainbows and just focused on the storm raging on. I’m sorry bur I’m happy now.

I’m in a good place now, I am with Our Almighty God, although I really think that Satan will get me anytime soon because I’m originally from hell? Joke. I’m happy now, I swear, and so should you. It’s not easy to live this life without me, or maybe it is? But it’s possible. You can still visit me in the cemetery, but know that I still prefer on putting me in ashes and wearing me as a necklace, if I am even that special. But yes, you can still visit and pray for me.

You can still feel my presence although, you can’t see me standing. I’m here, and I will always be here.

I love you, my 35-year-old self. Dead or Alive. You did a great job.

Written by Illeana B.

Read more Letters HERE.

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