Letter to a Stranger

Disclaimer: The following was an entry to a contest in a Love Letter Writing Contest in 2014

You know who you are, or maybe you don’t:

            We had a chance. I didn’t take it. You didn’t fight for it. We had love. I had fear. You had jealousy. Like the fools we were, in the middle of youth, we believed so much in love. I knew you wanted something else. You knew I was here just to stay. It was wrong. It started wrong and so it ended wrong. They say that what matters is the ending and not the beginning. They should know better how hard it is to change things with your own hands. The force of love wasn’t strong enough to change the direction of where we were going.

            I didn’t expect things would go this way. Disagreements were all we ever had. You believed in this. I believed in that. Though somehow, amidst the chaos of our connections, I somehow understood you. Or so I thought. The pain you felt, the pain that I couldn’t bear watching, I know that I made it worse. Poems after poems, letters after letters, I tried to say what I feel. I tried to apologize. I tried to confess. What’s effort with results? It’s called not giving up. It’s ironic, that people knew what I felt through a thousand words that I wrote, but somehow it didn’t reach you. Or maybe it did, you just didn’t know what to say. We were never direct. We never saw eye to eye. And so I let go of my pen. In the words of Elsa from Frozen: “Let it go”.

            From the beginning we were strangers, and we still are. The friendship that I tried so hard to keep; that I cried for, the friendship that you had taken for granted is gone. Oh, I know we tried. We tried to keep it. We’re still trying in fact. We tried to return to what we were. We can’t. We shouldn’t.

            I still remember every letter, every word that we exchanged. We were so childish, but I knew back then that I tried to be mature. I thought I was doing the right thing. I’ve never been so wrong. The wounds I received in the past, there still remains a scar. It’s annoying, that I would feel a phantom pain every time I see it. Things once broken can be fixed, but it will never be the same.

            I prayed to God that things will be alright. And it is. He gave me a lesson. A lesson well learned. To love others is not enough. You must love yourself first. So thank You God.

            Thanks to you too.

            Hello dear stranger. And I hope you are doing well.



Most of my friends, or people who know me, often wonder why I don’t get angry.

When things go wrong, when people are being bastards, when somebody is being bloody stupid or when things just don’t make sense, they wonder why I don’t get angry.

I get annoyed, frustrated, whatever adjectives or synonyms there are. There’s only so much annoying things that I can take in, so I do get a bit mad. But I don’t get angry, or so they think. I do get angry, I just don’t show it. I don’t lash out. It takes too much energy. It takes too much time. There are repercussions that I don’t want to face.

It is poisonous. Anger destroys who you are. It can kill. It hurts everyone around you. Anger is such a frightening thing.

Lashing out only exacerbates bad situations. Ranting helps a bit, but at a cost of being called a back-stabber and smearing your soul.

Anger burns everything and anything. When you get angry, you throw a vase. The vase gets destroyed. If you get lucky (or unlucky) you might hit the person responsible for you anger. Both gets hurt. Simple enough. When people get angry, they let loose harsh words that they don’t really mean (or they really mean it and it’s the only time they say it, which just sucks all the more)

Logic doesn’t work too well with anger, sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t.

Anger isn’t all that bad though, sometimes it shows people that you care, that you feel strongly about something.

But too much of anything is bad, isn’t it?

In all honesty, those words that I said are just excuse. The only reason I don’t want to be angry, to show my anger or to lash out is I don’t want to be that angry person.

That angry person who disregards everything about his environment and selfishly says words that can hurt others, whether it be the truth or lie. I’m not saying you should lie, or say sweet words laced with poison or what not. That’s also not good. But I believe that if you have nothing good to say, then say nothing at all. In other words, shut up if you’re just going to pollute the air.

I’ve seen how anger can hurt a person so much. I’ve seen it destroy relationships. I’ve seen how somebody cried so much because of a person’s anger.

And I don’t want to be that person.  I don’t want to be that person who hurts others feelings, who makes people cry and say caustic remarks that puncture ones confidence. I’d rather keep this emotion safe in my heart. I’d rather endure the temptation of saying hurtful words than to say it out loud.

There may come a time when I can’t hold it all in anymore, but I doubt that. I’ve gotten used to directing anger to somewhere else. As I said, I don’t want to be that angry person. I really don’t.