Yo Vamos A Estar Bien | Libro Querido

She remembered writing it. It was three in the morning. She had just finished the last of a cheap bottle of wine, her mascara tracing dark rivers down her cheeks. She had stared at her reflection in the fogged bathroom mirror, disgusted and exhausted. That younger version of herself had no idea that worse was coming. She didn’t know about the miscarriage at twenty-eight. Or the divorce at thirty. Or the panic attacks that would start in grocery stores, making her feel like the fluorescent lights were screaming.

She took out a new envelope. She wrote on the front: Para la próxima vez que duela. Libro Querido Yo Vamos A Estar Bien

And inside, just four words:

We are going to be okay. Not perfect. Not fixed. But okay. And okay is a beautiful place to live. She remembered writing it

The envelope had been buried at the bottom of the box for eleven years. Inside, a single sheet of paper, folded into a tight square, with four words on the front in her own handwriting: Para cuando más duela. She had stared at her reflection in the

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She remembered writing it. It was three in the morning. She had just finished the last of a cheap bottle of wine, her mascara tracing dark rivers down her cheeks. She had stared at her reflection in the fogged bathroom mirror, disgusted and exhausted. That younger version of herself had no idea that worse was coming. She didn’t know about the miscarriage at twenty-eight. Or the divorce at thirty. Or the panic attacks that would start in grocery stores, making her feel like the fluorescent lights were screaming.

She took out a new envelope. She wrote on the front: Para la próxima vez que duela.

And inside, just four words:

We are going to be okay. Not perfect. Not fixed. But okay. And okay is a beautiful place to live.

The envelope had been buried at the bottom of the box for eleven years. Inside, a single sheet of paper, folded into a tight square, with four words on the front in her own handwriting: Para cuando más duela.