Dear Childhood Ignorance,

How have you been? I know we haven’t talked recently. Sorry about that. I meant to keep in touch. Wanted to keep in touch. But you’re the one who left me. I didn’t want our relationship to end. Not really, as much as my young self imagined dramatic and glorious battles of faith. Why did you leave? Our relationship was so nice while it lasted. It seemed almost effortless, but looking back I wonder. Did my parents have anything to do with you staying as long as you did?

I’m trying hard not to be bitter. And a lot of the time I can succeed. I’m not upset about the way things ended. It was as gentle as entering the cruel pain in this world can be. It happened slowly and I saw it coming. Ha, I sometimes even embraced it. It’s just . . . on the other side of it, I sometimes ache so deeply for what we used to have, knowing I can’t ever get it back.

Sure, it’s not all bad. I’ve moved on to bigger dreams and adventures in life than I ever knew might come along. But I don’t think I’ll ever fully get over you. We had a good thirteen years together. I wish my life hadn’t pulled us apart. But then, what place does a senior in high school have for Childhood Ignorance?

So this is goodbye. I miss you, and I probably always will, but we’ll meet again, I’m sure. Always as a friend of a friend, but that’s the way it has to be. It’s time for me to accept the changes that were inevitable and irreparable. It’s time for me to enter Adulthood. And to do that, I have to let go of Childhood.

I don’t want to—I’m scared and feel alone. But at the same time, I’m so ready. And I’m not alone. Not really. Though you may have left me, I have a lot more friends who are much more reliable than you. And our relationships never have to end like ours was destined to.

Of course, it’s not completely letting go. It’s more of a “getting over”. Because I always want to keep the impression you made on me. I always want to hang on to some small bit of child-like. I want to still splash in puddles and blow bubbles and play make-believe and awkwardly embarrass myself.

This world is just so dark, so heavy, so hard. Looking forward to when my future kids introduce us again. Be nice to them, and stay with them as long as you can.

Goodbye,

Sara

Author’s note: childhood “ignorcance” is not the right word. But it was the best I could come up with. The truth is, I wasn’t ignorant. My parent’s protected me, but they also taught me about tough subjects in good time. I knew suffering existed. But knowing it and knowing it are different things. So while ignorance in the sense of being completley unaware is not the right word. Igorance in the sense of not truly knowing the hurt of this world yet is the right word. I had a good, happy childhood. Illness just brought the expereince of what I already knew in my head into my life.