This trivial love letter

Today, I am going to write a love letter… to myself.

She’s confident. She’s worthy. She deserves respect. She can make small talk and be charming. She will ask questions about you and your interests, and she will genuinely care. Sometimes, she understands that people need to have their own space. Other times, she realizes that she needs the quiet solitude as well. She will retreat to her room, watch a YouTube video, and laugh to herself. Or she simply sleeps. She likes to laugh, but she will also hug you when you cry. She will try to understand, because she feels sad too, occasionally. She wishes she were stronger. She can’t express her feelings sometimes, and it makes communication hard for her. She hates admitting that she feels small, when her friends are doing big things. Someone needs to remind her sometimes that she, too, does something for this world.

She has a boyfriend. She loves him very much. Sometimes she meets another guy, and a terrible nagging voice echoes in the back of her mind: What if? She may speculate from time to time, but that does not mean she is not faithful. She is doing the best she can. She is human. If not speculating about love, do people not also speculate about science, politics, religion? But asking a question does not always mean wanting to find the answer. She asks, but she does not feel. She does not regret the choices she makes. She chooses, and she loves.

She is afraid that she cannot do the things that she wants to do. What if she isn’t smart enough? What if she makes the wrong decision? She knows she’s not the only one who believes these things, but she can feel lonely. She may find the solitude comforting, but it also weighs down upon her. The confidence wavers, and she cannot always break the silence. She knows that she can do better. Still, she tries.

What more can be asked of a mortal being? She is valiant in her attempts. She sheds tears from time to time, but not all tears are in defeat. She defies the cold that unwittingly lures her away from a roaring fire. Yesterday, she may have let herself down. Today, she finds the strength to battle. And tomorrow, she loves herself. This trivial love letter about a human who tries. She is me.