To Whom It May Concern…

letter

I’m twenty eight years old, and in that short time frame I’ve learned that life is rarely fair. But it goes on. Whether we like it or not, life goes on.

Maybe we live in a dangerous world. Maybe this world has always been “unsafe” for those who weren’t sure what to do.

And I’d like to tell you there’s nothing to be afraid of, I’d like to tell you that failures build a man, that every fall is also a step forward. That what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…

But the truth is that, most times, what doesn’t kill you makes you wish it did.

Without a specific reason, I’ve always been most afraid that I would die alone. And everything I ever did in this life was because of this bizarre feeling. For example, when I was a kid I wanted to be able to talk to anyone about anything. So I began to read a lot of books, to watch a lot of TV shows and sports and stuff like that…

Of course, I didn’t get out of the house too much. Until high-school I didn’t really have friends. That’s why I started writing in the first place, I guess.

I was alone.

Then again, it wasn’t the best option. Writing because you’re alone is like taking painkillers to heal a wound. Yeah, it stops the pain, but only for a few moments.

Then came high-school, which is a different kind of war. It’s a four year period which forms much of your personality. I’ve made a lot of friends. And I’m being somewhat modest when I say a lot.

But I had to give up writing. I had to keep that side of me a secret.

And then everything changed.

Looking back, I honestly can’t realize how it all happened. The free-fall. In less than a year I had nothing. No friends, no money, no future.

Do you know how it feels when all you want is to simply live another day? When you dream and dream and dream, but you feel you haven’t got the strength to anything other but dream? When you spend year after year all alone…

When hope dies.

During those years I learned pretty much everything I know about life. By myself, without anyone to tell me. I learned that my tragedy is all mine. Pain can’t be compared or truly understood; there’s no such thing as genuine compassion. We sift everything through the filter of our own perception.

I had become a puny man in a world that was too big.

Like they say, I had reached the bottom of the shaft, and all I could do was ask, “Why? Why?”

And the only answer I ever found was, “Why not?”

At the same time I realized that if I don’t change something, no one was going to help me. Like I wrote previously, I’ve spent all my life fighting against the monster of solitude, and all of a sudden I had realized that we are utterly and inconsolably alone.

I was free to do whatever I wanted. And that’s what I did.

Every once in a while someone asks me for writing advice. “How do I write a good story? What makes good writing good?”

There is only one answer.

Find the thing you’re afraid of the most, rummage through your brain until it hurts, and write about it.

Because in all those years that’s what I did. I wrote about what I had and lost, about what I never had, and about all that I was certain I’d never have.

And I wrote until all my wounds healed. Now I’m working on inflicting myself new ones.

As much as art is a constructive process, in which we play God, at the same time is also a destructive process, in which we break pieces of our soul and throw them on paper.

I think you can get everything you want in life, that you can figure out who you want to be, what you want to do, and all that stuff. I believe you’re capable of wonderful things, as long as you have the courage to accept that it’s never going to be easy.

As long as you accept that there will also be pain involved. Maybe lots and lots of it. And you just have to keep fighting. You have to constantly reinvent yourself until you discover who you really are.

And, yes, at times you’ll be afraid. At times you’ll feel comfortable, and you’ll simply want to freeze a moment, hoping it will last forever.

But you’ve got to remind yourself, over and over again, that there are no destinations in life. Only roads.

No matter who you are or what you do, life’s full of moments of doubt, of petty frustrations, or sacrifices. Sometimes you’ve got to go down roads that appear in no maps whatsoever. And then your compass breaks.

And if you look behind you, all you can see is a road paved with regrets. And it seems that before you lies this road going nowhere.

Maybe sometimes it’s well to remember that “nowhere” is a lot closer to “anywhere” than we might think.

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22 thoughts on “To Whom It May Concern…

  1. Thank you for being brave and sharing this look inside your life. I have found writing to help me through bad times. My life is no fairy tale. There have been more villains than hero’s. Like you said, pain cannot be compared. Our pain is just that ours. It’s comforting to know there are other people out there who have grown from their pain and continue to grow every day. Thank you for sharing and inspiring me to continue on up.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I find this post very inspiring and for a young man you surely see life in a way that others would probably never be able to. Life is ups and downs and what I learned throughout the years is that if you don’t up yourself you will stay in the down forever. So keep going and remember that sometimes is better to be alone than surrounded with fake people.

    Liked by 5 people

  3. This really connected with me. As someone who has also always written since being 12 years old and who has used write to heal, cope, and sometimes just survive the experiences of life and growing up, I think this is beautifully written. Also an example of how our pains and experiences can be shared with others to let them know they also aren’t alone– all through the written word. Thanks for sharing this!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I think about this topic occasionally, and what I have realized is that whatever I did that made me feel uncomfortable made me stronger. Now I realize that it’s the only way anyone can ever get far in life. I look forward to more contemplation of the human condition from you.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Thank you for sharing this bit about yourself Christian. I’m (a bit) older than you, but by the time I was 28 my dad had already died and my mum was about to. I had moved countries, was in a relationship that was not great (understatement!) but I wasn’t sure how to get out of it, eventually did get out of it with probably equal measures of pain and strength, got remarried (a few years later), experienced miscarriages, had a son, had more miscarriages and lost a baby girl. And here I am, still standing, somehow. And there were times when I thought I couldn’t or wouldn’t. And it doesn’t stop, life keeps on throwing up pleasure and pain, comfort and angst, all the time. It never ends…well, until we die. But that’s what it’s about isn’t it? I may look back at everything that has happened so far, and on one hand I wish they hadn’t happened to me…but in the same moment I have that thought, I realise I wouldn’t be here, now, in this moment without them. And that’s a bit of a head fuck! There’s a lot of good here too.
    So we keep on learning, growing, evolving, changing – being shit scared, but compelled to keep going anyway.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. This seems to be a theme this week, roads to discovery. Every process we go though is that a process which we can learn from if we choose to. I recently wrote something similar however you can tell you have truly been there and back to tell the tale. Thank you for sharing such raw emotions which most people are too scared to share or even consider inside themselves 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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