Bury the girl caught between then and now, who leaves her heart wherever she goes. Bury her. Bury her in band shirts and hand-sewn skinny jeans. Bury her with the pictures on the wall.
How could she expect to live so long in a place she left behind? As if time would stand still for her.
What a privilege to never feel at home. What a privilege to be caught between two worlds. Suck it up. Dry your eyes. There's nothing to find in the bottoms of bottles.
It isn’t fair, but you have to care for yourself. Care for yourself and bury her. Bury her.
Bury the good parts and the bad: Her restless searching, her unbounded curiosity, her crippling self doubt, her humility, her humanity, her empathy, her brokenness, her creativity, her enthusiasm, her optimism, her lack of faith in herself; her abundant faith in everyone else.
She’ll never know she wasn’t an imposter.
She’ll never know she was right about so many things.
Bury her. Bury her with all the memories and things you cling to. Bury her trinkets and journals and notes and drawings.
Bury her. Let her go. Don’t go back for her.
She can’t comfort you now. You will never be her again. Grieve for her, but leave her.
It will be hard but you have no choice. You are alone. And you alone will start again.