~For those we’ve lost along the way.~
To the unwitting reader,
I wrote Cursed as a personal project to reopen fresh wounds, before time soaked them in nostalgic bliss. My intention was never to romanticize self-destructive behaviors, but to document them in the only way a melodramatic, English major could.
Stories belong to us all. To those of us, who found a different use for their pencil sharpeners, or endure the summer heat to dispel disparaging eyes from others, and from our own reflections.
To the ones who may realize their body and mind are separate and constantly at odds, but unsure what comes next; the fearful few meeting each day with brave hearts preparing for the possibility of rejection- or social ostracization; this journey is scary. It is brutal and will force you to bare your soul to others in a manner never thought possible. Our paths lie through bitter triumphs, devastating losses, and few chances for redemption. We have scratched our souls across history’s parchment, only to fall to springing flames and narrow views of the variety of spectrums that exist within our world.
Celebrate the darkness, and live toward loving yourself the way you and all that came before and will come after deserve. There is no feeling comparable to looking into the face of a mirror and knowing the face that looks back is yours. Don’t fear questioning yourself, nor questioning the world. The deepest insights derive from sensitive topics.
I apologize if anything I wrote returns the itch.
Sylvie Rheia Bernhardt
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