It must be wonderful not to worry about how you look, how you’re going to wear your hair today, or what designer clothes you should buy to look “cool”. You’re probably more interested in thinking about what game you and your friends are going to play during recess, getting your cootie shots so those “icky” girls (or boys) don’t try to kiss you, what time your favourite shows are on after school, and wondering whether your homework would take up too much of your playing time.
You are so innocent, unprejudiced, and unaware to what is going on around you. The way in which you view the world and the way in which you voice your opinions and how you solve problems is so simplistic and childish yet so reasonable and linear in its own process that to others it is the most basic yet ethical, practical, and logical in its solutions that adults wonder why they had not thought of it before. The reason for this is because they themselves have undergone social conditioning which has changed their unbiased way of thinking from childhood into something controlled and one-sided that retards the way for making progress in our society. That’s why I cherish the open-mindedness and bluntness of children.
It must be wonderful not to care about what others think of you because you do not yet know about gossip, or prejudices, jealousy, and hate. I hope you have fun not worrying about school work, the future, or chores; at least until your Mom yells at you. Living for the moment is all that counts because these moments are the ones that you will remember forever.
He set before him one plate, one dull knife, one fork. To him this was a routine. A routine which reflected the lonely life he led. He laid out one tender and juicy steak, one steaming baked potato, and one white fluffy dinner roll; a standard yet hearty meal for a lonely man.
He sighed to himself as he sat at the table made for two yet always seemed to have room for only one person; himself. Gazing at the empty chair in front of him he wondered if one day someone would occupy that seat. To him the chair represented everything in his life; the hopes he had for himself, the dreams he had hoped to accomplish, the wishes he knew now would never come true. It was like a vicious cycle, one that always began and ended with an emptiness he was beginning to think he would never fill.
If for once he would be able to engage in a conversation with another human being instead of relaying to his dog how his day had been then he would be well on his way to filling that emptiness.What would he talk about with another person? He wondered. Would that somebody be interested in world issues like he was? Or would they be interested in more political and economical issues like he wasn’t?
The lonely man pondered this for some time, all the while eating his delicious supper and staring into the empty air in front of him. What was it like to have a friend? To have someone who was actually interested in how your day had been and to not have them expect a treat in return for the wasted 30 minutes of listening?
The solitary man polished off his dinner for one and washed the one plate, one knife, and one fork before turning off the lights and heading to his bed made for two but to which he noticed only had enough room for him.
I will say I adore you, if you adore me first. I will say you are wonderful, if you wonder about me. I will say I’ll be here for you if you are here for me. I will say I love you, if you show me you love me too.
Can you see that I love you by the way you make me laugh, the way you make me smile? Is it obvious? Can you see that I enjoy being with you by the way I talk? Is it obvious? Can you see how much I care for you by the way I look into your eyes, those big blue wonderful eyes? Is it obvious? How about the time when I steal glances at you when you’re not looking, was it obvious then? How about when I wanted to say it, how much I wanted you to hear it, while I so desperately clung to the hope that you would say it back; was it obvious? Did you notice my love when I gazed into your eyes, the eyes that I wished could show and tell me everything, even your fears; was it obvious then?
I want you to notice, to see how much I care for you. When you stay by my side I am happier than I have been in a long time. But when you leave it saddens me. Your absence rips apart my soul and the only way for it to be put back together is to have you here with me; until you leave again. When you go you take away my moments of happiness, the laughter and the smiles, and especially your eyes, but never my love. That, I am afraid to say, will always be with me waiting for the day when you, at last, notice it and return it with as much passion and tenderness.
Hope, what is Hope? It is but a figment of my imagination. I have never felt, touched, nor tasted even a glimmer of Hope. She passeth over me like the Sun passeth over the Earth. She circles me, taunting me with her beckoning fingertips, but hardly does She dare to come near me.
Why does She ignore me so? Am I not worthy of Hope? Am I not worthy of feeling like there is a chance for me to escape this depth of Misery, of fleeing from this Pain, to feel for once the Joy and Happiness which others feel? Am I not meant for Joy? To be with Happiness? For so long I have been trapped in a cage of complete Solitude, of Darkness, of the utmost Misery and Pain that I no longer “hope” for Hope. To me, Pain is the only thing I feel. I have felt it for so long it has become a part of me. It hurts and each day it gets worse. The Pain worsens.
I have felt this way for so long that I no longer believe I can escape It. I’m hurting others too, but I can’t help them. Even if I try I will just hurt them more. It hurts me that I’m hurting them, and this brings more Pain. It comes when I don’t want it. It comes when I do want it. No matter what I will always be surrounded by Pain.