Letter to Myself

I love you.

I’m not sure if these words mean enough. I know they didn’t when you were younger and tried to end your life. They didn’t mean much when you wanted to hang yourself, leap into traffic, and drive your car into a wall.

But I want you to know how much those words mean right now. I love you, Jabulile. We’ve been together—literally—our entire lives. I don’t imagine us parting ways anytime soon. I’m writing this for an audience, but I’m especially writing this for you.

I want you to know that I care. I care about what you eat. I care about how you’re treating our body. I care about your thoughts. I care about your words. I want to know exactly how you feel about something and then do exactly what you want to do. I want you to be honest with me. Most of all, I want you to stop being afraid.

You’re smart. You’re entertaining. People love you. Enjoy that. Enjoy the moments you’re given. Enjoy the memories you make with me and with others. Enjoy your life, because you deserve it.

You can’t keep holding onto the past. It won’t change. True, there are problems back there that may affect the way you live today, but it’s not worth pondering over. Trust me. You know that reliving dead, hurtful moments aren’t going to divine well for our future—or even our present.

I think that’s the most important part of this. I love you now. I always will love you now. My only ask, and I’m begging here, is that you love me back. Together, we can change!!! 

Love 

Jabulile Maloisane 

Take it easy, Jabulile. Be happy. You’ll realize that it’s all you’ve got. See the beauty within and without that God has given you. Don’t destroy it. Share it with others. Soon, all this may be transformed into something you may not understand. Love yourself. That will make it easier. 

Dear Jabulile, Everything ends up ok. Keep the faith, and all will be well.