In 2013 one of my teachers gave me a stone with the word "Hope" written upon it with blue sharpie. She told me to hold onto it and never lose it. I had forgotten about it's existence until I was cleaning up my office and found it underneath my couch hidden in a shoe box filled with other rocks. I had a rock collection as a kid unintentionally when my then partner and I went to the beach. We didn't have any swimsuits so instead we walked on the beach instead. There weren't any shells for us to pick so we picked up rocks. I found one hidden under the sand as huge as a brick. It could have may as well been a brick with the erosion the water and sand imparted upon it. I held onto the hope stone as I discarded the rest. Ironically its a shape of a heart. I wonder if she did it on purpose. She gave everyone in my class a stone, each one of us had a different word written on it. I remember writing about this stone when I graduated and my valedictorian speech was a kin to something about holding onto hope. I wonder what eighteen year old me would think of when they see me now. I wonder if they'll see sad decrepit being that I see myself as today.
I wonder if she knew that I had always struggled and despaired for almost all my life. I don't remember her face or name anymore. They say with depression impairs your memory. I wonder if I'm even remembering it right. I don't know anymore. I haven't talked/reached out to anyone from that time period. It all seems so distant. I want to find her and thank her but I don't know where to start.
Thanks for reading,
A.A.M
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I've been writing in this since I was thirteen in 2007. I still am writing in it, and it will probably be my legacy till the day I die. (Don't start reading from the beginning as my writing was atrocious then.)
The road of redemption is a long one, but I think I'm doing great so far.
Thank you.
Thank you.