Dear Ann,

Wow! You’ve actually made it to 16.

You’ve probably just come back from celebrating your birthday, haven’t you? I remember it wasn’t as sweet as you’d hoped. I know you walked out of that dingy restaurant thinking that maybe, just maybe, what happened made you feel more secondary rather than celebrated, only to immediately shove those thoughts to the back of your head.

That doubt you’ve held in your heart since day one will, eventually, catch up to you. It will suffocate you, and you’ll feel as if you’re back to your five-year-old self, who barely made it afloat in the ocean’s hazy waters.

Sixteen was definitely an odd year. You will make it out of that horrid friendship fairly intact and have a tight-knit friend group for most of the year. You’ll pick up sewing again, freeing your sewing machine from catching dust constantly. You’ll go on your first-ever school trips, both in-state and abroad, and visit some college campuses for the first time.

But, sadly, it wasn’t all positive. You’ll fall in love for the second time in your life, and after your heart silently splinters during the nine months you kept waiting and waiting for their redamancy, like a dog chained to a pole; it will shatter, and you’ll feel as though you’ll never recover. You'll feel that maybe, just maybe, leaving your mattress — which has long since embedded your outline — doesn’t seem fulfilling. Who cares if you hadn’t left the house in days if not weeks? You were safe. You were safe. You were safe. How much longer will you tell yourself that before you come to terms with how lonely you are?

Now, we’re almost 17. July 11th is creeping ever closer as summer bleeds into spring, and discussing
birthday plans with your friends becomes commonplace again. If there is one thing I want you to take away from my message, it's that I know it feels like you’re trying to live on a permanently red-stained canvas. I know that it feels like no matter what you do, it will never truly be blank again, and you will never heal from being stained in scarlet.

Even if the "red" will never fully go away, you will learn how to envelop it with other materials. Whether it be paint to offset its vivid hue, fabric to add depth and texture, or glue to hold everything together, someday you will be able to walk away from it and be proud of the piece that lays before you. Something that you can proudly display in front of everyone, just like the works in the museums around you that you loved and constantly raved about. Eventually, your eyes will get used to the traces of scarlet, and you’ll recognize them as a small part of a greater whole.

Please take care of yourself, for our sake. Lots of love, your(self) truly,

— Ann