Prompt: A Letter to the Version of You That No Longer Exists
Dear You,
I don’t even know where to start. Maybe with a thank you.
Thank you for enduring the nights that felt endless. Thank you for carrying dreams too heavy for your small shoulders.Thank you for loving, even when it hurt. Thank you for hoping, even when hope seemed impossible.
You.
Who cried silently in empty rooms. Who stumbled, failed, broke. Who trusted people and situations that didn’t deserve it.
I see you. I remember you. And I want you to know: it wasn’t in vain.
You taught me to fight softly.
To fight fiercely. To forgive, not for them, but for you. To close doors, walk away, turn the page. To keep your heart generous, even when the world was not.
Sometimes I miss you.
The rawness. The uncertainty. The vulnerability. You believed in magic when it was invisible. You dreamed when the ground beneath you trembled.
And now… the version of me you left behind?
Stronger. Calmer. Wiser. Braver.
I carry your scars like medals. Your lessons are like maps. Your echoes. Your laughter. Your stubborn, endless hope.
When I stumble. When I feel small. When life hurts again…
I whisper:
“Thank you. Thank you for surviving. Thank you for trusting. Thank you for being brave enough to evolve.”
You are gone, yes.
But you are everywhere I am.
In my courage. In my kindness. In my grace. In my generosity. In my lending a helping hand when I have had no one’s to hold. In my belief that got a few scratches but still shines. In my truth that never shakes. In my fairness, even when everything around is unfair. In the quiet, stubborn faith that no matter how hard life gets…
I will rise.
So here’s my promise:
I will live fully. I will dream wildly. I will love fiercely. And I will remember you, always.
You are the foundation of who I’ve become.
With love,
Me
