I open the door to see a small girl sobbing on the bed.
She doesn’t have glasses yet, and there’s snot running down her chin, but I would recognize her anywhere. Tentatively, I begin to walk forward, and the floor creaks, accidentally startling her. Her eyes meet mine, and her mouth opens, and I say, “It’s me,” and somehow she knows, too. I sit next to her, and she looks up at me with watery eyes. Fresh tears begin to fall, and I brush them away, only to realize they are my own: the past and present.
I gently grab a tissue, and I begin to clean her up. As I’m wiping her face, she asks, “What are you doing here?” It’s a question I wasn’t ready for, one I’m not sure how to answer. I set down the tissue, and I open my mouth, about to tell her everything, but then I remember.
She doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t know that this will keep happening. She doesn’t know that this pain will be forevermore. She doesn’t know that she will have to grow up far too young.
So instead, I put on a sad smile and say, “I came because I need to tell you something.”
I take a deep breath and begin, “Keep going. Just keep going. You don’t know this yet, but life will keep throwing obstacles at you. You will have to crawl on your knees while you cry. You will have to mask the hurt behind your façade forever. It’s what we do. You’ll learn it soon enough.”
We sit for a little while, two girls comforting each other.
“I know it’s scary. It’s scary that it looks like there’s no hope right now. That no one cares about you, not even yourself. But I need you to know that there is love inside of you. It’s all around you too. It’s in the smile that cracks when you talk about dolphins. It’s in the joy you feel when you read a good book. It’s in the hugs our dad gives us. It’s in the flowers outside your window, the sun shining down, and the wind in your hair. You deserve all of it. You deserve to be treated fairly, to have your feelings respected, to feel loved. And you are. You are loved! Don’t ever forget that. Can you do that for me?”
She nods, and I continue.
“There is so much that is worth living for. So much that you will experience and enjoy. You just have to try. I promise it will get better. It did for me, and it will for you, too.”
I don’t even realize that I’m hugging her until I feel a soft sob in my chest. And just like that, I’m crying, too. Again. We sit for a little while, two girls comforting each other.
Eventually, I hear a blaring tone in the distance, and I know my time is up. I release her, and she looks up at me, her nose a crimson shade of red. I look down at her, and I know I love her more than anything else. She sniffles and asks timidly, “Will you be back?” I pause as I consider the question. After some thought I say, “I might. Either way, we’ll meet each other again.”
She nods once more. I give her a final squeeze, then stand up and walk to the door. Just before I close it behind me, she waves shyly. I wink at her and whisper, “Remember, when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.” A smile blossoms on her face as the lock clicks.
All of a sudden, I’m sitting up in bed, with the clock reading 6:25 a.m. I have a funny feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place, and then I realize.
For the first time in a decade, I am whole.
