Rainy

Young girl

Young girl, don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. Sleeves aren’t for hearts, I’m sorry to say. They’re too close to the hands that yours hold. And if your hands don’t ever hold any other’s than your own when you pray, at least you’ll have an empty sleeve to wipe your eyes.

Young girl, don’t forget to wear your bullet-proof smile. Their hurtful, passive-aggressiveness can make you feel like a stationary target and you knowingly volunteered to stand in front of them, with their loaded words to your forehead, the minute you stood up for yourself with the only kind of honesty you know. So be prepared, young girl. You’re the one that’s strong.

Young girl, don’t hide behind cups of coffee. I know I’m not the first one to tell you that, and that he was, but please remember. Remember all of it. Remember that you’re kind of like those coffee cups you so often hide behind. But it’s okay to be chipped, for it means you have a story to tell. And it’s okay that you’re nothing like you used to be, because people change too. And hey, someone someday might mistake you for some vintage bauble and you’ll be next to them as they sit by the window sill when they’re reading. But they didn’t make a mistake in reminding you that young girl, you’re valuable.

Young girl, don’t forget to keep breathing. I know that’s been difficult lately. Keep breathing anyway.

Young girl, don’t write your secrets down on a windy day. They’ll tear apart and scatter among the branches of trees, under bicycle wheels and black-soled shoes and fall into puddles of remains of stormy nights when your secrets were safe and sound in the pocket of the flannel button-up you sleep in. They may feel free, away from the hands that scribbled them with loopy l’s and v’s, but young girl, you’ll never be able to gather them again. So if you must write your secrets down on a windy day, make sure you have someone who won’t run away by your side, young girl, to help you let them go.

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