Dear Universe (or Life or whatever you would like to be addressed as),


I would like to commend you on your tenacity. Your many and varied attempts to break me are impressive and you continue to surprise and shock me, even when I think I’ve seen it all.


Granted, I have only had 47 years to try to decipher whether or not your intention is to find a way to make me tap out of this journey or whether I , like everyone else, am simply here for your amusement and enjoyment. However, 47 years is long enough for me to have garnered some insight.


Admittedly, there have been a few occasions where it had looked like you may have won and yes, I admit, I have come close to conceding defeat. Yet, no matter how many times or for how long the bad days have lasted; my track record for beating them is pretty damn good. To clarify, that means that I haven’t ever given up for good.


I have never been one to enjoy playing games that require great skill, cunning, or strategy. Luck has eluded me as well – I find its fickleness and uncertainty to be unpleasant to my taste for reason and understanding. I do love games that challenge me though. So thank you. For so many chances to discover the strength and clarity that comes with knowing not only what I’m up against, but more importantly, what I bring to the table.


Thank you for showing me what I’m made of and all that’s inside of me that I have to fight with. I’ve seen, and accept, that sometimes I do slide a bit and falter when I’m pushed; I also see that I always find my grip and dig in and I hold on – without fail.


Today, I offer you these simple words:


You have no idea what I’m capable of and what I can handle, but I do now. Regardless of what comes next – challenge accepted. And I won’t lose.


P.S. Your sense of humour sucks at times.

You must have walked into the room but I didn’t notice.

You were just simply there

all of a sudden,

next to me on the couch.


I’m not surprised to see you,

even though I should be.

You’re not on this side anymore.

That’s what the coroner told me just a few hours ago.

She made me hear her.

Even when I tried not to.

Especially when I tried not to.


Now here you are.

We sit together.

I don’t say anything at first.

Then a quiet “How are you?” escapes my lips.


You shrug.

A familiar movement from you.

It’s not out of the ordinary.

But it should be.

I know that deep inside.

But it isn’t.

It’s just you and me.


“I’m okay” you almost whisper to me.

You sit.

“It’s not…” You start, then your voice trails off.

I hear you sigh.


Now it’s my turn to shrug.

I don’t know what to say.

I have too much,

and nothing,

to ask.


“I have to go.” You say as you stand to leave.

You wait, looking down at me.

“Do you have to?”

I turn to look up at you.

But you’re already gone.