Alone

You know what kind of writers are my favorite? The kind who’re able to express their thoughts through everyday things. Like I love those who use metaphors that we can relate to.

It’s like the thing with being alone. You think you’ll never find someone who understands because you feel you’re so twisted and chaotic that it might get tiring for the other person but then all of a sudden you find that person in some aisle at a grocery store buying your favorite cereal or eating Doritos with ketchup. And it’s like someone gets you. You think of the odds and the countless defenses you put up around your heart because you think that certainly no one in this entire world could put up with you but there is.

I mean you honestly believe that everything is at a war with everything else. You try and try to bring peace to one part only to find that every other thing in the entire universe has started a World War. You think you’re doomed to fail. I mean isn’t World Peace part of that Utopian world satirists rage against. But then you find that someone who understands you. Who understands the exact meaning of your “um…like…I mean to say…”  Who reveals you through the silence you’re sharing. It’s just so strange and wonderful that you start believing it’s a dream. 

And maybe it is. Who knows? But in that pandemonium when your world is coming crashing down around you, when your guts are battling each other, when your two hands are holding knives both at your throat; you find that one person who understands you and you know that your problems are far from over but you also realize that it’s nice to know someone who can empathize.

(P.S. These were my thoughts after reading The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen)