My dear hearts,

There’s so many things I can’t do for you now. I want to come running to you and kill as many glasses together, pretending to feel it would make it all better. But, let me remind you that it’s the start that’s always difficult. I don’t wish to provide you with temporary soothing words that we both know is pointless, in our hearts. I’ll tell you something else. A story.       

There’s this girl I know, very very closely. The first time I met her, boy! She was charming, rattling about all day around with her chirpy voice, many called her ‘a little birdie’. As she grew up tenderly, her voice changed into a husky one, which I and every one loved. But there was many other changes I had noticed, which she wouldn’t talk about. It was almost as if, her voice had died. She started worrying a lot. And I had no idea why. One day she told me she hated a certain uncle. One time when I asked her about the marks on her hands, she said it came from trying to stop a fight the other night at home, another day, with evidently nothing in her eyes, she spoke about how she never wanted her parents, siblings, grandparents or friends to ever feel there was nobody who understands them, no matter what happened in their life. She went on telling me how she worried about everybody, somedays she cried while on it. She told me “if you accidentally commit a mistake, severe or not, and I am appearing calm as if to me it means nothing, that’s not the truth. I want to help you figure out something, and that won’t happen by me freaking out. Because if it’s breaking away my every cell, I don’t even want to think about what it’s doing to you, I can’t. just don’t forget, when you feel the world is against you, I am not.” Today I met her again, and she would say that she suddenly stopped worrying this much, because tomorrow will bring another reason to worry and one day it might be worse, it’s all the same thing every day, you worry and still nothing changes. (now I remind myself let’s not worry for today. It’s not easy but change feels fine). Now I don’t see the same girl, when I look into the mirror.

I understand and I’ll always, another you x

Published by Aisu Minam.