Every now and then I write a letter about my past. I don’t know where it started or how the idea came to be. The base of the letter was to get things off my chest. To often the chaos of life hits. Mostly for me its more of an inward chaos. I love to play pretend so that no one knows the storm that is brewing inside.These past two weeks has been that, a raging chaotic storm in me that has kept me hidden from eyes except when I need to be “presentable.”

And when times like this comes, when I know I’m dealing with fighting away the depression I write my Past a letter. It isn’t to anyone in particular, and yet it is to so many in particular. All the feelings that are gathering, ready to explode, comes out. And so, once again, Past, this is for you…


Dear Past,

Another letter to you. As always as I try to find my way. After today I feel almost defeated and yet my heart isn’t heavy. I can hear you say I told you so but I can feel myself smirk because as usual you don’t have the entire basis of the circumstances. As I sat in my car after what I hope will be the final report this morning, I began to think of the events of the last year and all that has happened. Would I be in this position today if I did things differently? If I flitted with the wind would the outcomes still be the same? I wish I can say I regret what has happened. But I don’t. Not the blackened eye, the concussed head, the heartbreak or loneliness. Not the amazing weekend, the laughter over food or the music. I don’t regret the last year because I began to listen to your advice. You would always tell me to take care of me. Think about what I want. Think about what I need. Think about what I love. And make the decision. And so I did.

Oh Past, I loved you once. I loved our conversations. I loved how I felt alive around you. I loved the way you held my hand. Or when you sang me my favorite songs. I loved how you knew how to hold me as I drifted to slumber. But what I love now? I love knowing that you, my Past, is no more.

You have allowed me to grow. You fought at first. You hated it. Thought I forgot about you. Thought that I didn’t care. But, little did you know that I cared too deeply. I cared that I was walking away. But, I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop me from finally understanding, finally realizing that what I really wanted wasn’t you, Past. It wasn’t the secrets we shared. Or the camaraderie we loved. It wasn’t the laughter or the fun. What I wanted more than anything was to be able to hope again. And I did, without you.

You see, Past, it was the hope that made me realize how manipulative and conniving you were. Hope opened my eyes to your controlling ways, your jealousy, your constant need for validity. You would bend my feelings at will, bleeding my heart the more you hooked on. You never bothered to take responsibility for nearly destroying my life. You always played the blame game, showing an act of innocence though it was just a lie. Though I couldn’t see the darkness hovering, others could. And now, while my faith has begun to heal me, hope has been restored, and you are no more.

I pray for guidance for you as you stand alone. Just remember, Past, this was your choice. Your choice to be free even as you hide behind the curtains. Freedom comes with a price. My price was saying goodbye. So, now I bid you adieu as I go on my way. Thankfully, oh so thankful, I chose not to stay.

Goodbye dear Past. Goodbye. xoxo

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