To Those People

To those people who have days when crying has turned into staring at a dark wall while feeling the tears burn at the back of their eyes and their throats constricted by a welling lump. To those people whose arms and legs narrate a tragically beautiful story. To those stories…that would make every one of you, who aren’t them, reevaluate your own personal story.

To those people who I walk by down those crowded hallways, who hide their pains by laughing it off. To those people, who know full well what it feels like to be drained behind their happiest of smiles. To you, who knows how to hide like how a child knows how to find his favorite, most cherished toy.

To those people who wake up confused, not knowing why there is a lapse, a gap, a gigantic blackhole in their memories. To those people who are addicted to their own pain as if it were some sort of ecstasy drug, who enjoy their own pain. To those people who ache for patterns in their lives, who live in one (Five minutes to eat breakfast, take a bath for Ten minutes, change clothes Three times,  lock and unlock the door Six times…).

To those people who are in pain yet no one would believe them. To those people who look in the mirror and absolutely hate what they see. To those people who stay on a chair and see and hear what other people can’t. To those people whose nights are filled with wandering minds and unanswered begs; wishes. To those people who spend days with only themselves for company.

I see you.

You don’t think anyone sees you, but I do. And to that I raise a glass of the finest champagne a rich man could have in his possession and say… “cheers”.

Cheers to those people who fight in the wars of their own mind. Cheers to those people who are broken and worn down to the bone. Cheers to those people who have unnatural cravings that have to be satisfied. Cheers to those people who hide. Cheers to those people who have encased themselves in a world entirely of their own.

Cheers…for fighting in a never ending battle.

But allow me to offer a sledgehammer for you to break down the walls that you have surrounded yourselves in. Allow me to help you take down each nail of that wall. Allow me to see you…to really see you. Allow me to be your rope, your punching bag, your shoulder, your boulder and all those cliche sayings.

If you are broken, then by all means show your brokenness to me. If you are at war, allow me to be your commanding officer. If you crave for the patterns, then show me your routine. If you have a world of your own, then sign me up for the tour of it! If you hear something, tell me. If you are in pain…just call me and I’ll be there as fast as I can. After all, I can run.

 

(for those people

…and you)

 

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