|Image from theneotraditionalist.com|
How do I thank you, when you took the time out of the whirlwind of your working and study lives to drop me a message through email or Facebook?
How do I thank you, when you spared a moment at home, at work or during your commute to craft messages filled with words of encouragement and kindness, peppered with motivational quotes and Bible verses?
How do I thank you, when you tell me that the musings of a gloriously unemployed 23 year old made you laugh aloud, brought tears to your eyes?
How do I thank you, when you tell me of your own heartbreaks, your triumphs, and your struggles; that you trust a complete stranger to say, “I’m going through the same thing too.”
How do I thank you, when you leave a nasty comment comparing my writing to stale bread or charkueyteow (dontknowifcomplimentorinsult) and accusing me of orchestrating the heartbreak to manipulate the masses?
How do I thank you, when I get as many followers requests as I do for game invitations to play Pirate King?
How do I thank you, when you so generously offer yourself to fill the gap that my ex had left behind?
(Thank you for generous offers of pictures of your manhood, perhaps next time!)
How do I thank you, when you tell me to follow my dreams, to not stop writing, that you can’t wait to read more?
When my heart was broken three months ago, I felt the usual motions of unrequited love; but even more so, I felt worthless.
I know that it takes two to fall in love, two to make it work and the very same to fall apart, but I can’t help but wonder if he was perfect, then surely I am the wrong in the equation. I spent way too long scrutinising every inch of me, cross examining every flaw to determine the reason why he didn’t love me anymore.
But in the past two days that this post went viral, every Facebook Like and Share a virtual pat on the back, an electronically transmitted whisper of encouragement, of support – I no longer look in the mirror and find something worthless looking back.
You said that my post gave you courage, tugged at your heartstrings, moved you.
But it is your honesty and kindness that disarmed me, your positivity that restored my faith that life is beautiful, made me realize that beauty can be found even in the fractures of a broken heart.
You believed in me when I myself didn’t.
Dear virtual friend,
I do not know you.
I do not know your stories.
But it is because of you that I continue writing mine.