Valentina’s hands trembled as she held it. She was thirty-four now, not twenty-three. The girl who had written this letter had been fresh out of a breakup that felt like a death, drowning in a job she hated, living in a studio apartment with a leaky faucet that cried with her every night.
The envelope had been buried at the bottom of the box for eleven years. Inside, a single sheet of paper, folded into a tight square, with four words on the front in her own handwriting: Para cuando más duela.
But that younger self had still picked up a pen.
I’m not saying it becomes easy. I’m saying it becomes worth it.
Querido Yo,
We are going to be okay. Not perfect. Not fixed. But okay. And okay is a beautiful place to live.
Querido yo, vamos a estar bien.
She took out a new envelope. She wrote on the front: Para la próxima vez que duela.
Valentina’s hands trembled as she held it. She was thirty-four now, not twenty-three. The girl who had written this letter had been fresh out of a breakup that felt like a death, drowning in a job she hated, living in a studio apartment with a leaky faucet that cried with her every night.
The envelope had been buried at the bottom of the box for eleven years. Inside, a single sheet of paper, folded into a tight square, with four words on the front in her own handwriting: Para cuando más duela.
But that younger self had still picked up a pen. Libro Querido Yo Vamos A Estar Bien
I’m not saying it becomes easy. I’m saying it becomes worth it.
Querido Yo,
We are going to be okay. Not perfect. Not fixed. But okay. And okay is a beautiful place to live.
Querido yo, vamos a estar bien.
She took out a new envelope. She wrote on the front: Para la próxima vez que duela.