Dear My Senior Self,

I hope your last year of high school is treating you well. Hopefully biomed is not too troublesome. Science has always been easy for us. Well… most of the time. I’m currently struggling with my chemistry course. College is definitely harder than high school. Ignore what our teachers say, or the idea that it gets easier.

But that is not why I’m writing to you. Last weekend, I saw him. Five months later. Him. The boy. The boy you loved so much. The boy who made you bend down laughing at his antics. The boy you could talk with for hours about life’s greatest questions and never grow tired of it. The boy who towered high above you yet was the gentlest and clumsiest person you knew. The boy you dreamed about, who made you want to show just how much he meant to you. The boy who made your heart skip a beat whenever he smiled. The boy who broke that same heart without even knowing it, over and over again. The boy you cried for. The boy you still pray for.

Thank you for loving the boy who struggled with his own demons and trusted you enough to reveal them. Thank you for patiently listening to him vent to you about the girl he never fell out of love with, oblivious to how you were absolutely dying inside with feelings you knew could never be uttered out loud. Thank you for being a good friend who remembered his birthday, even though he forgot about yours. Thank you for loving the boy who never loved you back, nor really cared about you.

You might be wondering why I do not hate you for loving that boy. Questioning why I do not resent you for losing yourself and your peace to him, only for him to willfully dismiss it or be blissfully ignorant of the pain he caused. Instead, I express my utmost gratitude. Because you loved that boy so much- you learned the cruel, cold truth at the pinnacle age of 17. You learned that falling in love with somebody, only for it to be torturous and heartbreaking the entire ride, is the only way to truly learn how to love and defend yourself.

I owe it to you, my senior self. I am no longer afraid to acknowledge a lost cause and walk away. I no longer fear the what ifs that held me back before, the things that stopped me from leaving a situation that only harms me. I have the courage to stand up and fight for myself. Because of you, I stood up to him and expressed the bottled-up pain and turmoil he brought to our “friendship.” Even that was painful, as I was forced to put my secret feelings aside to prioritize my dignity for once. Thanks to you, I will never look back and become Lot’s wife.

I ran into that boy last weekend, five months after I graduated and moved on to bigger and better things. I still thought about him. Every time I hear the Backseat Lovers, I think of him. When I saw him, the tiny sliver of me that still cares was disappointed that he seems the same… since I have changed so much in so little time. I wonder if he noticed any subtle differences in me. Whether I seem more confident and self-assured, more independent. No… probably not. Nor will he ever know about the old wounds and unspoken words towards him that I will take with me to the grave. Nor the book I started writing, nor the incredible people I have met, nor the adventures that come with starting a new chapter in my life: college.

My dear senior self… Thank you for helping me see reality and teaching me to accept it. The cold, disappointing reality that the boy you loved, the one who listened to you passionately rant about your dream to become a veterinarian someday… forgot what college you are attending. And deep down, you know he also forgot the words he said to you that December night, in the church kitchen. When he said he could see the excitement in your eyes when you talked about your future.

So… Thank you. Thank you for choosing to love the boy who only hurt you. For showing me the consequences of being blinded by love, so I will never experience them again. For showing me at such an early age when to move on and walk away without regrets. For teaching me to accept reality so my heart can no longer be hurt. Thank you for loving that boy. The boy who rewired our heart.

With Love from the Future,
Elena Mendonsa