I want to sit with you and talk about life, about how everything isn’t the way I imagined it would be. I thought by now I would have achieved more. I thought by now I would have become more, but everywhere I go I seem to get a reminder that I have regressed. The reminders often come from my father, who my sister says loves me whole-heartedly but can only express it in the most conceivably debilitating way possible. They eat away at my soul, pride and very being. Whatever self esteem I have left after he’s done with me is wiped out by the glamorous lives of my friends and peers. Yes, friends like you, who unknowingly remind me of all I am yet to achieve.
My life seems to have slowed to a trickle with every fleck of stardust that once made it my pride and joy blown away in a wind of change; with every blessing seemingly hanging for an eternity like a drop of water from a tap head. It seems I have to always wait for an eternity for something good to come, for the drop to finally fall. Everyone I speak to admires my outward optimism, my blind belief in the saying that everything good will come eventually, but the thing about time is that it takes the flavour away from words of hope, eating away at the inner optimism that truly counts and from where all beautiful things flow. With each passing day, I seem to be wearing a badge of defiant optimism I’m not so sure I believe whole-heartedly in anymore.
I know your reply to all my troubles and questions before you speak, because I know you so well. Because you, like me, have gone through this. I know the tunnels you walked in and how long you walked before you reached the light at the end. I was there with you then and you said in those moments I offered a candle, a light to illuminate the shadows and disperse the darkness. A light that helped you find home. I know you’re willing to offer not only a candle, but also a hand to lead me through. I know you’re willing to offer not only a hand, but a voice so I never get lost in the darkness and forget who I am, so that the walls of my fears and troubles do not envelope me completely.
So because I know all this, I want to thank you even before you speak: for sitting with me through the sunshine and the storm; for sharing your umbrella so that I may have a little cover from the rain; for opening your arms wide to me in comfort each time the world casts me aside; and most especially for being a true friend like no other.