Letter #3

Dear,

It feels as though I’m whining but that’s the last thing I want to be. My never-ending wait has not borne any fruits and I’m starving. My throat is parched; my eyes- dry. My tears, my precious tears, are just empty rivulets having left permanent marks of their once abundant flow.

My stone hearted ‘friends’ are still “alive”, if that’s what you can call them. Some days are better than others, or maybe that is how I’m desperately consoling myself. You can’t change people, that’s for sure. That does not imply that they won’t try to change you either.

We’re in this constant battle of resisting and molding. You want me to change not because it’s healthy for me but because it’s convenient for you. I’d be lying if I denied this about myself,too. My question persists – Why does everyone pretend to ‘accept’?

Acceptance is a person’s assent to the reality of a situation. I am unable to accept, you are denying to comply and progress means nothing. Improvement and progress are fables and every opportunity you get, you slash that across my face. Have you turned into this or were you always like this?

It sends chills down my spine to utter the words “I feel…” because then I come across as a mercurial person with no grasp on my own emotions. It’s a crime to feel in this frozen world but I am willing to thaw. I’m thawing every second of the day, not because I want to do you a favour. This is how I am going to be happy.

Looking forward to being free,

Me.

 

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