𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺

A letter: From Edith To Carl

Life sometimes doesn't seem so hard.
Life is a mind game. It deceives your mind, by giving you all the good and then destroying it, repeating the cycle over and over again.
Some people have life very easy. Some people don't. And some people just don't appreciate it.
There are people who have a hard life. Those born with mental issues. Those born with physical problems. Those born with illness.
Then there are those who are lucky. Born with just... Luck. All of what they desire, at the grasp of their fingertips.
Sometimes life makes it hard for you... Or just makes it seem that way.
If you were born with nothing you learn to not complain about the things life gives you, the bad things I mean. But those born with just plain luck,  the simplest problems become the end of the world. The diamond ring they ordered online, it's too small now; what a tragedy.
People who have it all sometimes don't understand the struggle. But that's not what life is about. It's not about learning the struggle or feeling it. It's overcoming it.
Some people take advantage of all the little they have. Those with depression use that illness as an excuse for how they treat people, an excuse for getting what they want, an excuse for everything.
Those with ADD say, "I'm sorry, I can't focus, maybe I'll do it later." And never get anything done.
If life isn't fair for everyone... Does that make life fair?
Nothing is ever fair.
So... How does that make my life fair? How does that make anyone's life fair? Does it matter if life is fair or not? Everyone asks, all the time, "what's the meaning of life?" sometimes they ask "what's the purpose of life?" But why don't we just ask "what's my purpose? What's my meaning? What can I do to contribute to everyone around me?"
Sometimes you may seem useless to yourself; meaningless.
Sometimes you want to fit in. Sometimes that seems the right way. They tell you that fitting in will make you disappear. But you don't want to stand out too much do you? You feel like standing out it's being popular, be known for something stupid like social status.
But wouldn't it be better if you were known for making a change?
Why all of these questions in this letter, you may ask.
I'll tell you why.
It is important not to lose who you are. Not to lose yourself. If you lose yourself, well it will just drive you to insanity.
I never said Good Job or praised you enough. Just things like, good but do better next time. I thought it would make you a tough kid. But I know I showed it. That I cared for you. I spoiled you, I told you stories I wouldn't tell anyone else, I treated you like you were my own kid. You became a part of me. You were always in my mind and I always thought... "maybe I can make a difference in him"
You deserved much much better. You deserved it more than any millionaire in the world. Your smile was always bright and your eyes always shinned so bright.
I remember the day I told you I would have to stop being your teacher. That smile faded and your eyes... were so dull.
So dull... like when you talked about your family, are you wished... they weren't your family.
Ha. The funny thing was it wasn't my decision. Like I said, some people aren't born lucky. I was born sick. Meant to die young like many.
And you still wonder why I am writing this letter to you. Feel special kid, you're one of the only five people I'm writing a letter for. But this one is longer. Because... Even in the darkest of times, when I came into work you ask me about books, any new content I wrote, and that stupid bright smile...  it gave me strength.
I'm glad you came by, just a few months ago, remember? Asked about all the stories I had written and how they came about.
I'm glad you did kid... You know, asked about them.
I arranged them for you. Publish them for me please. The five last ones I never showed you, I never showed anyone. They're all about these last few days.
I'd be lying if I said I'm not sad. But I'm not scared. Not for me, but for you and those who are close to me.
I'm starting to forget a lot of things.
It's a side effect of all the medicine.
But I do remember reading a book about magic I think, and someone said to not fear the dead or maybe not feel guilt or sorrow for them... But feel whatever it was... For the living. You know since they are all the ones who suffer after a death.
I don't want you to be sad for me kid. Be happy, after all I was supposed to die a few years back. I'm glad I got to teach you. I'm glad you became a part of me. I'm glad I didn't give in to the darkness.
So do me a favor kid...
Don't fit in. Don't give in to the darkness either. Don't let anyone tell you who you are. Don't let anyone tell you what you are. Don't let anyone-- anyone-- break you down. Keep being yourself kid.
Love and with sincerity,
Your teacher and mom by heart,
Edith.