You know that open letter exercise where you write a letter to somebody but don't intend to mail it? Well, this is kind of like that.
I've been following a certain blog for a while now via the Blogger website, and I just got around to reading the past week or so of posts that showed up there. I don't really remember how I know the blogger who writes it, but I recognize a kindred spirit when I see one. And yes, I can see your spirit through the web. I'm cool like that.
Anyway, the person in question has experienced some emotional hardship of late, and while it is out there in the open for everyone to see, part of me feels like it's too personal for me to respond to directly, especially to someone I'm pretty sure I've never talked to.
So, I'm writing kind of an open letter to this person because I just sort of feel like I have to put this out there, because even though I think a direct response doesn't seem appropriate, I feel like I have to say something about this in one form or another. I really don't even intend for the person I'm talking about to read this, but if I put it out in the open and they happen to see it, I'll know it was meant to happen.
To whom it may concern,
I read about your recent troubles with that person who was so important to you, and to whom you were sure you were important, too. I don't know whether that is the case or not. Maybe they told you that you don't really matter, or else made it clear with their actions, but were only trying to cover up how they really feel about you? Or maybe it was all a lie to begin with, as you may suspect already. I'm not in any position to say which I think it is.
I will, however, say this: if you see that person again after reading this, tell them from me that as long as they keep up what they're doing, they aren't going anywhere in life.
When I read your initial description of their behavior, always sitting around feeling bad but doing nothing about it, I immediately thought of myself. But as I continued, I found the similarities stopped there. We all experience hardships, and we all struggle to find meaning in what we do. The crucial difference between myself and the person you thought loved you is they have a different way of finding meaning in their life. They find it in drugs, sex, booze, mind-numbing tv (been there), and testing just how far they can shove their head up their own ass. These kinds of people have no meaning in their life, but they can't stop lying to themselves about it because that would mean acknowledging that their own actions have made them what they are.
In short, this person probably had something good with you. They could have tried to hold onto it, nurture it, and watch it turn into something good, but they didn't, and they were too naive and conceited, too wrapped up in themselves to see how they were hurting you. This story is all too familiar to me. It's the burden of misguided youth all over the world. Drop a penny off the roof of any high school; you'll probably hit somebody who is a victim of the same story.
So, what about me? Well, I guess I'm misguided too. But I'm finding my own way, blazing my own trail, and I'm making a point of never forgetting about the people along the way who help get me there. I don't always pay a kind word to everyone I think I should, and that's been my failing, but I'm trying to do better. I don't have the time and energy to help everyone I meet who is in pain, but I doubt I'll stop wanting to every day of my life.
That's why your posts spoke to me. I heard the familiar pangs of heartache, and wanted to reach out. But I'm still just a stranger, and I know I can't promise to do any better than that person who broke your heart. At least they could talk to you; I'm a thousand miles away, even to those I care about most.
Before this rant of mine gets too long, I'll wrap up by saying this: I admire you, because in spite of everything you still believe there are good people out there. And you're right. I know, because even among the sea of misguided youth, I still see a handful of good souls out there in the world. I happen to think I'm one of them. I don't know that I'm "the right one" for anybody, but then I've always been my own toughest critic. I don't have the conviction to talk to you directly, partially because I don't even know who you are, nor do you have any clue who I am. More than that, though, I think it's because I'm never sure I'm good enough for anyone. So, for now, I'll have to leave that up to you. If you happen to read this, and think maybe I'm worth talking to, if only on a friendly pen-pal basis, you know how to reach me. I don't exactly make a point of leaving the proverbial porch light on, but my door's always open.
And on that note, I think I need to go do something immoral now. Maybe I'll fire up the wii and play Mad World for a while. Peace and love, readers.