Challenge 136: Dear Sally...

May 26th, 2010

Dear Sally,

I'm writing because I saw you today, for a brief moment. You were standing at the top of the stairs at the beach house wearing a dress of velvet and lace and bows on the sleeves. You were frustrated because the lace was itchy and the bows on your sleeves weren't tied exactly the same. You couldn't stand it. And I knew exactly how you felt. You were at the top of the stairs, all by yourself, blankly staring down to the bottom. You heard the voices coming from the bedroom as though you were underwater...distant and barely understandable. You're in another world, your own world. And you're the only one there. You're waiting for something. To go somewhere.

You were so sad today when I saw you. Your eyes told me that you felt all alone. And that people didn't understand you. You felt bad for feeling the way you did about the bows.

I'm writing this letter because of the look I saw on your face. The look told me that YOU were gone. And in place of YOU, was a wall. A bubble. I wanted to go up to you and throw my arms around you and tell you that everything is ok. That you're ok. That I love you just the way you are and it's ok to be exactly who you are. That no matter how you feel or what you do, that I love you. And that you don't need to protect yourself from anything because I'm here to protect you.

And so I'm telling you now. I love you. I'm here for you. I will never leave you. And you don't need to be afraid anymore. You don't need to protect yourself anymore. Nothing can hurt you ever again.

When you start to feel sad again, feel my arms around you. Know that you're safe. That you can melt into me and I will protect you from anything scary. You don't need that bubble anymore because you have me. And I love you more than you'll ever know.

With all of me,
Sally