I Know You’re Reading This

I know you’re reading this. I know you don’t know what to say every single time I wrote something like this or worse. I understand. After all, it’s not everyday you encounter someone that wears his thoughts though his fingertips. I’d like to give the benefit of the doubt that you at least care enough to keep reading. I know I’m grateful for at least that.

I know what it’s like to be unsure whether you should say something. I stood at that point before. I watched people I barely know share with me their most intimate secrets and their darkest fears. I wanted to say something but I didn’t know where to begin. I also watched them trail away in life, broken by the silence, never knowing the company of friendship. I also stood by their deaths, echoing their fears in my own attempts of ending it all.

I don’t know how else to show you what can be done. I learnt from mistakes that lead to losses of precious life. Mistakes that bear with them silent thoughts that were never said until it was too late. Maybe you have yet to experience those lessons in life. Maybe I’m here to show you that you don’t have to bear that burden.

I can be your friend, despite my own shortcomings. I can be as normal as you want me to be, despite my own twisted sense of self. I can tell you that I’m someone worth sharing a laugh or two with, if only to remind myself that I want to be in that company of peers even more.

I can tell you that silence isn’t always cracked up to be. I can tell you that no man should ever be the reluctant loner. Yet all these things are just words that I say. Only you can decide whether to trust it to be true or not.

I know you’re reading this. If only to tell you that I’m here if you like to talk and I don’t want to be kept in the dark, or at least remarked amongst each other in silent thoughts and passing nods.

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