A letter to a stranger who would listen

Subject: A letter to a stranger who would listen
From: Anonymous
Date: 12 Dec 2017

A letter to a stranger who would listen
Hi stranger,
You’re not anyone I know. I don’t know how you look like, how your life has been, what gender you are, what types of personality you have and how you are doing presently. Asking for a little of your time to understand a stranger as me would be too much of nuisance for you perhaps. But, I believe that you had a preparation for this beforehand, am I right?
If you make your way to this sentence, I think that I’m right.
Have you ever wondered for reliability among human beings? Have you ever been in a relationship that you’ve sacrificed and suffered because of the mistreat of trust? Are you hurting? Are you weeping? Have you ever wished to talk to a stranger? Once? Twice? Uncountable?
I have lost my way with friendships. Phew! That thought knocked on me and dragged me out of the unconsciousness. Then I awoke after the fever got off me to realize that my forehead was sweat off. Last night, my best-friend-in-life just did something unexplainable and undeniably scattered my belief into pieces. Physically, I couldn’t blame my sickness on her since the fever arrived a day before the incident, but I wouldn’t deny its mentally effects on me. Even questioning and investigating my memories of how many times I still didn’t know what I’ve done wrong.
I TRUSTED HER!
I haven’t even wondered if she had that same thought for me or not. I didn’t require for the reliability to make the U-turn. All I was looking for is a real friend, a friend who could be there anytime for me to lean on and to trust. It would be no matter if she considers herself whatever gender, whatever backgrounds, comes from whatever social classes. I didn’t ask for a good-looking friend, a great math solvers or a wonderful scholar. All I was craving for is an individual who would willing to give trust back and forth and is able to trust as well.
Do you recall that little song lyrics that now I don’t even remember its name? A first English song that we’ve performed at the U.S high school?
“... We all need someone to lean on...We’re friends… live in the painful world…” Huh?
But this world is more than that. The thought of whether to live and confront with that invisible monster in oneself or escape/ running away from it exhausts a person’s vitality. A brooding mental-evil monster. What was your decision? Either or neither?
“I’m a child of a divorced parents.” “I’m an innocent witness in the separation of mom and dad.” “I’m a victim of school bullying.” “I’m a sufferer from love.” “I’ve suffered from the stereotypes.” “People called me ugly as sin and stupid as as*.”
Have you stranger found any of that apply to you? Are those thoughts continuing to swallow, immerse, and trample on you in every breath? If no, you’re a fortunate person. If yes, you’re not a bad luck, you’re inclusive. This world is full of pains, mistreatment, and burdens. Are the hopes of a realm where people can embrace each other’s used-to-be-persons, sins, mistakes, inner self, and accept the past, present and the future still exist on this planet?
Undeniably, we all are suffering. A boy kid has his own worries about his world. The worries that of his parents won’t be home again and wouldn’t do the promise of taking him out for a “play date”. A girl teenager worries about her dad will dine out with his colleagues on her birthday one more time because last year she has waited for dad to be home with mom and her, however, he missed his daughter's sweet 16th birthday. Someone in this world is worrying about their relationships with family, lovers, bosses, neighbors, etc. All kinds of stuff. That somebody is attempting to death to endure whatever they carry with every day. Family, work, monthly bills, relationships, their appearance, the assignments that are upcoming due, etc.
This world is so much tiring. What we bearing on our shoulders are overweight and overloaded. But why is that someone doing what they’re doing? Are they all fool?
[Take a deep breath in and release your breath with the loudest sigh you could make.]
...
Ready?
The reason is that they find it worth living. The reason is that they still have hopes for their life. They believe one day the works that they’ve done will bring them the blossom consequences they respectfully and sufficiently deserve. The hopes of the loving, bright, and delightful realm are still presenting on this planet. The belief in the rainbow after raining just like the look beyond any sorrows, burdens, mistreatments would turn to the feelings of happiness and embracement.
Yes, knock on that door! For how long have I disappointed in the relationships? How long has my turbulent heart positioned in the vulnerable mode? How long have I been living in suspicions? And how many times have I rejected and refuted to stretch my leg over that gap of the vulnerable trust? But, I knocked on that door to realize that I was long cocooned in the loneliness. The room was dim and gloomy with the outlandish atmosphere. I felt a bit creepy to see myself squatting in the corner, surrounding with SOS thoughts. My thoughts were visible. I saw a lot of shrapnel of “I need help!”, “ I’m alone!”, and “ I want to get out of here!” sentences scattered on the floor.
A pity girl!
I rescued her. I told her “the legend of Hon Vong Phu” a traditional Vietnamese story about a faithful woman who cradled her child in her arms waiting for her husband to make his way home from the fierce battles and finally petrified after that long time of waiting for the reunion. Another story about Nick Vujicic, “a penguin" he called himself, with the sad stories about his disabilities and the hidden messages to everyone, or a story about Jack Ma with his challenging paths to becoming a richest Chinese man, etc. I walked that “ pity me” pass each door; one door of disappointment, one door of self-blaming, and another door of loneliness. At each one, I paused and let that pity one see one common similarity in all of that stories, from the abstracted to the realistic stories, is the belief in trust and the acceptance of vulnerability. Finally, who dared to call her “ pity” since she won the victory against herself?
Yes, I know that I’m not alone and neither you. The matter is that if today someone comes and knocks on your door, would you like to open it? Would you obliterate whatever made you feel heartbroken, and allow yourself and other people to approach and heal it? Would you agree to let them grab your hands and slam that door behind? Ask yourself, are you ready for this day?
I was ready. I am ready. And I will keep the hopes in my mind. Looking forward to the real friendships.
The door was slammed behind me.
A stranger,
An anonymous person

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