A Letter.

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A letter to myself.

You live in the shadows and you don’t know it yet. Trying to be something was never enough for you; you wanted to be everything. The things you tell yourself are the things told by the greatest to the weak. You can not bring yourself down like that. You never considered yourself weak. Overthinking kills and rules you. You never realized how bewitching your mind truly is. You dwell on details and your heart is so fragile, it crumbles more often that it needs to. Sadness has become your comfort and it feels strange when life actually seems heavenly. 

You love the sun. You love that it is the source of light and warmth and energy and how it expects nothing in return. You love the sound of the waves and you love the feeling of crunching sand beneath your feet. You’re wishing you could live near the beach one day. You love the sense of eternity it gives you. You stare at the elegance that sea is and at times raging and screaming, it reminds you of a symphony. It makes you feel worthy of living.

On that particular evening, on a chilly evening in August, on a holiday in Greece, you ran to the shore and despite being a little afraid of the depth you swam in and only looked back once you could sense the distance increasing. You found yourself in the middle of this grand mass of salty water reminiscent of a giant teardrop and you remembered all the reasons why exactly you were still alive. And at that moment, you wanted to be the ocean itself.

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