I hope you have the courage to do the hard work.

I
hope you have the courage to sit down with your de-
mons, to befriend them; to look them in the face and
to not feel fear. I hope you have the courage to stop
picking or numbing or avoiding the wounds within,
and I hope you choose to heal them instead. I hope
you have the courage to understand yourself, fun-
damentally — to open up the deepest, darkest parts
of your mind, to unhinge your rib cage revealing the
gritty parts of your soul, the parts no one else claps
for, and I hope you have the courage to clean them
out. To forgive yourself for what you had to do to
kill your sadness. To forgive yourself for the ways in
which you didn’t fight for the person you were becom-
ing. I hope you have the courage to nurture your pain,
to not disregard it or sweep it under the rug of distrac-
tion or convenience. I hope you have the courage to
heal yourself, even when it hurts.

I hope you have the courage to know when to end

things. And I hope you have the courage to see end-
ings as beautiful, transformative stepping stones. I
hope you have the courage to let love and opportu-
nity move through you like rain. To not grip, or seek
to change it, to not ask people or circumstances to
be more than they can be for you. I hope you have

17