I Wrote This for You

by Iain S. Thomas

Forget about your lists and do what you can because that’s all you can do. Phone up the people you miss and tell them you love them. Hug those close to you as hard as you can. Because you are always only a drunk driver’s stupidity, a nervous shopkeeper’s mistake, a doctor’s best attempts and an old age away from forever.

Because only a hard heart shatters. Only a hard heart, breaks.

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.

But really, all we want, and I speak for the entire human race here, is contact. Someone to let us know that we aren’t alone. That the world isn’t a dream and you and I really are happening at the same time, even if it’s not in the same place. That this is real. You’re really there. I’m really here. We’re real. This is real.

You are nobody’s hero. And nobody needs you. Desperately.