I’ve been a mess lately. A colossal one, actually. Everything is in chaos. Just when it all seems to calm down and finally settle, Hell rises once again. I keep going, of course. It gets dizzy going around infinitely, though. I am beginning to develop whiplash from this. You know all of that, of course, though.
Do you remember when I was a fresh faced five year old, running around kitchen wearing my Jungle Book underwear and pigtails in my short blonde bob? When I was full of life, love, hope, and complete wonder for the world? I do. Life was beautiful then. My only concern was memorizing the words to Tikki Tikki Tembo to impress Mom and remembering to bring in something “super cool” for Show And Tell on Fridays. Everything was simple and beautiful. I knew not of illness, heartbreak, nor deceit. All I knew was I was loved and I was going to grow up to be an artist (Artist Arden; I loved the sound of that). I miss that deeply.
I’ve erred countless times since then. More times than I care to admit, actually. I have done far too many kind people wrong and I have been the cause of hurt. I have been the reason behind many salted tear filled nights. I have been destructive. There have also been times when I have been foolish, stupid even. I have let myself fall, let myself be vulnerable when I knew it wasn’t a smart decision. I turned away good advice and allowed myself to be hurt. I practically welcomed pain into my life at some points. This has in some cases made me stronger, wiser even, but it has worn on me. It has closed me off and roughed up my edges. I am so longer the sweet, hopeful Arden I once was.
I am sorry. I am sorry for each time I have left a negative impact one somebody’s mind. I never meant to spread anything more than kindness but somehow, all I did was infect. This is me opening up, admitting I have done wrong. This is me hoping you will see that I understand I have done wrong and regret it with every ounce of me. This is me wanting to start over. Again.
It has been far too long since we last spoke. When was the last time, actually? Was it before I moved, when I was 8? Or was it right after I moved, when I was sitting in my new room looking out my open window? Was it sometime after? I am not sure. Either way, I am sorry I have left you in silence for all this time. You, of course though, see all that happens with me. It’s not like you really need me to update you on my life or anything. I do imagine it’s nice, though.
Since we have last spoken, I have been heartbroken. Hell, I have also been the one to cause heartbreak. I have felt rock bottom and for some reason, kept digging. I have felt love (yes, me. The girl who didn’t believe she could love actually did. That didn’t end well, of course, though. It ended quite disaster-like. It needed to, though). I have lost many people. I have also met some of the most profound individuals and I hope to keep them in my life for as long as they wish to stay in mine. I fell in love with acting and even more in love with writing than I was before. I have grown closer to my father whom is currently my best friend. I love him much more than he understands.
I am sitting here looking up at all of you, all of your broken constellations. Part of me knows you are all dead stars whose light is just now reaching Earth but for some reason, there is something so intimate about just existing with you. I lay on this grass and it feels like it is just me in this world blanketed by the thousands of you. It’s comforting.
This whole thing, whatever this is, has been chaos. I apologize for that, but is there really anything more me than chaos?
So to the stars who still listen,
Here I am.