From Daily Prompt: Write a letter to your 14-year-old self.

Dear me,

14-year old me, actually.

The most stupid past-me. That year, when everything started to break down in pieces. That year, dear 14-year old me, was the year when you started to smash every thing in pieces and torn every thing out. In the next two years, you’ll bleed. Cried. Shouted. Yelled. And when things couldn’t get more worse, oh believe me, it will. It will repeat its devilish cycle when you hit 21-year old.

You took the wrong choice in love. The most sacred thing — love. Overrated yet underrated, thanks to Hollywood.

The person that you THOUGHT going to be your Prince Charming wasn’t really charming after all. Boom. Reality hits. As much as you (and even still up to now) love Disney stories and fairy tales, you realized there’s no such thing called “happily ever after.” Life never been as easy as reading, “then they lived happily ever after,” and closing the book. Nope. Nada. It’s a constant battle and fighting — while the best thing you can do is biting the goddamn bullet, moving onward, and praying that God will forgive your sorry ass. When things going way too much for you, somehow you found consolation in whimpering at the dark corner with tails between your feet.

That Prince Not-So-Charming thought he’s pretty charming, though. And that what makes him justify every disgusting thing he did to you — and deep down, you will keep this hatred inside you and nothing can make you feel better but to stab a good metal stick on his sorry forehead. In a way, you learn the phrase, “forgive, but never forget,” in such a weeeeeeird way.

And not only a guy, mind you.

You will meet several guys along the road (and mum constantly thinking you’re being “too liberal” – a mum will always be a mum) and most of them are… Lets just say, 4 out of 10. You have this relationship issue and somehow you have to fix it ASAP. However, the time you finally able to fix it was several years later.

Hey, life is shitty, but look at yourself now. I’m 28-year old you, typing this. In such a freaky and funny way, I managed to survive.

True that there weren’t zombie outbreaks or some aliens attack (but we had this Mayan prophecy about doomsday about to happen in 2012 — weird stuffs, I tell ya,) but I guess you deserve a good pat on your shoulder for a job well done. A job of surviving.

If I could travel through the time and meet you now, dear 14-year old me, I am so gonna slap your sorry face and beat you to pulp. I am so gonna kick your ass so hard so you could face those sad things better.

And no, I won’t change any single thing in my past. Those things formed me into what I am right now; and I’m pretty proud of it.

You might wondered, “so when things eventually get better?”

Here’s a hint: 11 years later.

When you finally realized how fucking foolish you were (and you finally had that urge to slap your own head) and when you finally able to take your time.

And dude, you will survive. Oh yes, you will survive. You create your own “happily ever after.” Life doesn’t have “happily ever after.” You are the one who responsible to create that ending. Trust me, you will do good.

Dear 14-year old me.

Take your time. Seriously, take your time.

True that we cannot predict the future and guessing when the planet will blow up or any thingamajigs that could happen, so that’s why I’m telling you this: Take your time.

I know it’s too late to tell you this, but this also a reminder for the current-me.

Take your time, Nin. Take your time.

We always run chasing God-knows-what as if we’re being chased by some devilish monster, afraid of being devoured.

That monster is The Time. The faster you run, the faster it chases you and swallowing you altogether. So take your time. In a blink, that monster could pass through you and you have nothing but regrets. Fucking regrets.

Oh, and another thing. Those people you called as “siblings”? Yeah, they love you. They’re just not really good at expressing it :)

Best regards,

28-year old you