Dear Beloved S.,
Once upon a time, a couple of ducks were waiting patiently for their new baby ducks (ducklings) to hatch out of their eggs. Although all of the eggs looked the same, when they hatched, one specific duckling looked very different than all of the others. Yes, the other ducklings weren’t identical, but this duckling was very different. His neck was weirdly longer, his legs were weirdly darker, and even the color of his feathers was weirdly unusual. The mother and father ducks were so surprised, but they did their best to love him just like any other of their ducklings. The other ducklings, however, weren’t so nice to him. They never stopped making fun of him and avoiding him, and they called him “the ugly duckling”. As they grew up, our duckling tried his best to fit in by trying to act and look like like all of the normal ducklings. But despite all of his efforts, he never succeeded. The more he grew up the more obvious the differences became. He didn’t look like the others, didn’t walk or swim like them, and he didn’t sound like them. He always hated himself for being an outcast. Continue reading
(I wrote this letter over the course of a few days to my friend whom I’ll refer to as S. -for privacy reasons- and delivered it to her on Wed, the 16th of March 2017)
Dear Beloved S.,
I’m writing this to you after almost 2 days of trying to respect your desire for me to leave you alone as much as possible. It has been very difficult for me, but if you are really happy, I’ll use all my power to bare the loneliness and the pain of being away from you when I want to be close, just for your sake and your happiness.
They say Einstein once said: “We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we faced them.” I think there is a recurring problem in our friendship and I’m writing this to try and explain, in some detail, why I think there are better ways of dealing with bad times other than the way we’re currently choosing. I hope you read this carefully, put yourself in my place, and, at least, reconsider, for my sake, please.
Sunday, the 12th, 2016
A very sad day for me.
I wrote this to a friend who left Ireland and went back home. I was supposed to meet her for one last time that day, to tell her these words in person, but it never happened …
I wanted everything I never had
Like the love that comes with light
I wore envy and I hated that
But I survived
I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go
Where the wind don’t change
And nothing in the ground can ever grow
No hope, just lies
And you’re taught to cry into your pillow
~ Alive, Sia
For years I had no good ways of expressing my agony. I wasn’t even allowed to cry in my bedroom when I needed to. I didn’t even have a bedroom of my own, as I shared one with my younger brother. The number of nights in which I wanted to sob or scream but suppressed my voice as not to be heard are just countless. That was regarding the space I had in my home, or rather lacked.
We usually forget months and even entire years of our lives, but there are some moments, some nights, that can never fade away from our memories.
I always say I have a very bad memory. Could it be my brain’s way of defending itself against grief?
A universe is vast, spontaneous, and unique. So is my mind.