Dearest Witty,
I’ve been listening to a lot of music
lately. Good music. The real stuff. The stuff that changes lives
and makes you feel different when its over. Not the whole “ I
met him in the sky-” bullscrap. But I want to make you feel
the way I feel when those songs are over. Almost as if I’m
different. As if I’m the only human being in the world who
has ever felt such emotion.
So I’m writing it all down. All these
letters are for you witty. And with any luck? Maybe I’ll make
you feel different when you’re done reading them. You
don’t really need to know much about me, just that I’m
a girl and I’m in love. The good kind. The kind of love that
makes a person feel whole. The kind that makes you feel happy and
raw all at the same time. The kind of love only shared between two
people when they both realize that they might not be together
forever, but that’s okay. Staying together as long as we can
is good enough for me. We both know that people change and life
happens and we’re okay with that.
I just want you to know that this is all
predictable. Life- I mean. We eat, sleep, wake up and continue the
process all over again. Then we die. Its so predictable. Even if
you Carpe that freaking Diem you’ll still die. At one point
everybody in your life will seize to exist. Just…Love what
you have, even though it’s a shout in a void. Because
that’s all you can really do right? I mean if you’re
not loving everything around you? Then why are you surrounding
yourself with it anyway? Eventually you’re going to have to
sit back and realize its time to start your life. Its time to stop
doing what everybody tells you to do. All of that pressure about
getting good grades, so you can get into a good college, so that
you can make good money and buy a good house and live a good
life.
None of those things make a good life.
None of them.
I’m sorry Dear Witty but ask yourself.
What makes a life well lived? it’s the people, the
experiences.
Every time I get up and do something I ask
myself “ Will I thank myself for this later? When I’m
on my deathbed? Breathing my last breath?”
Most of the time the answer is less then
satisfactory.
Honestly- I wont thank myself for the extra
hours at the BBQ joint I work at. I wont thank myself for losing
sleep over an American History 3 CP test. Nor will I thank myself
for being an obedient child when I wanted to test my limits.
But, as we all know, these things don’t
change over night.
Maybe I’m hoping some of you will change
with me. I’m so afraid to die with my life unlived so let me
just promise you now that I’ll try to make every day count.
Make it last. Make it worth it.
And maybe you’ll be with me every step of
the way.