A letter to my Guardian Angel
Let’s base an entire letter on an assumption…
If there is such a thing, as a guardian angel. There might be times where we debated their existence and those times were the toughest for us. The moments where we needed protection and felt incredibly alone, something divine and inexplicable to be there for us, take care of us, when no one else would be able to.
Dear Guardian Angel,
It’s me, your jackpot! I find it a bit silly, writing you a letter, knowing that you might as well not exist at all. But then again, I thought… What do I have to lose? Apart from some bits of sanity, which I would gladly sacrifice in order for my poetic side to flourish and my cynical one to die for a mere moment.
I’m pretty sure that you’ve face-palmed quite often from all those ”very smart and innovative” decisions I’ve made so far! Forgive me for all those times you had to go the extra mile to save me from my own self. I know I can be a royal pain in the ass to deal with, especially when I’m being stubborn.
There are, quite a few incidents gathered together, where ” you got so lucky ” is a bit of an understatement. These kinds of situations where nobody could really answer how I got out safe and sound or even, alive. Was it really you? Or my personal need to be grateful?
I chose you. I punched logic in the stomach and decided to devote a part of my idealistic romance to the sweetest thought a person can have towards religion; a guardian angel.
I wonder how well you know me. Ever since I was a kid I’ve been meaning to ask you what color does my soul have. That’s all I wanted to know. As I was growing up, I didn’t care for that question anymore. I wanted to know ”why” and ”how” and ”when”. There would be times that I’d blame you for my ”bad luck” assuming that you have control over everything.
You were there. You are here. To help me enjoy and endure the journey of my life. Forgive me for all the times I ignored you, but most importantly… Forgive me for making your job so very difficult, by not loving myself enough.
You know I’m talking about the healthy self-love. Not the narcissistic one. The one that helps us grow, makes us be sure for ourselves. It’s funny how people who love themselves less, are capable of an extreme capacity of love for others. It’s like the kid hiding inside them is so thirsty to be loved and nobody sees it, except the ones who will eventually be able to see through your hole.
You… You know all of that. It must be very frustrating for you to want to explain all those things to me, to protect me, to make me stronger, but you can’t, because I can’t hear you or see you. Maybe that’s why you visited me in my dreams, only once though.
Even there, you didn’t say anything. You just looked at me. And right then and there, I felt all your prayers for me, to finally see that the one and ultimate weapon against the unpredictability of life, is self-loving. Trusting your own core. It felt so familiar, as if I knew you ever since I was born.
Forgive me, for not knowing those lessons that are supposed to be so obvious to everyone else. But you see, for me the word ”obvious” is so funny and predictable.
Dear mystery existence, if I ever see you in front of me, let me buy you a beer, please. It would be the least I could do for you, but hey, you wanted to go through tough battles and choose me to protect. Your choice, my treat.