You always had it in the back of your mind that things would work out for you. You sort of felt that there was nothing you couldn’t do. It’s great how much you believe in yourself and in your sauce, it really is. Especially when you have no consistent evidence to back it up.
You do not believe age is an excuse, but you seem to fall back on it because it protects you from accountability. The truth is that it is not what you did that led you to the point you are in life, it is what you didn’t do.
You didn’t try hard enough.
You didn’t make better choices.
You didn’t overcome your procrastination.
You didn’t do what you said you would.
You equated your words and promises to actions you never fulfilled.
You waited for life to hand you the lemonade instead of making use of the lemons that overflowed in your hands.
You chose complacency and mediocrity over achievement and consistent success.
You began to live a life you feared you would live.
You fell off.
Time was your greatest advantage. Age was a valid excuse. Ignorance was an understandable reason. So what happened now that you have dug yourself into a hole so deep that you need to be reborn to feel again, you need to be hopeless to start again, you need God to see again, to heal again?
I fear that you have spent your whole life running from heartbreak. How ironic, isn’t it.
Woe is me? No. Woe is you. That you broke your own heart because you watched your life flush down the toilet alongside your poor decisions. What a shit hole, pun intended.
Oh, woe is you, that you watched a movie of your life that left you feeling regretful and unhappy. The movie was quite uneventful. Ever watched a movie with many words but no action? You might have broken a world record there. You spoke about many things you wanted to do while sat on a chair, in bed, in front of the TV, on the toilet, even in the library. Woe is you indeed.
But there is still time, although little. There is still strategy, although limited. There is still hope, although in God. You can do better, but at what cost? What are you willing to give up? What are you willing to change? What is that innate, habitual and life-sabotaging part of you that needs to be burned to ashes to make you who you can be? What are you willing to do?
Do not reply to my letter. I am tired of the words. I will be the one to write to you again. Your actions will dictate my next letter, but I hope with all the words yet unwritten that this version of you no longer exists, and if a rebirth is what it takes for you to become the person you dream of, so be it.
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