Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger,

I’m afraid; I’m worried; about everything. About if I’ll ever find love, happiness, peace. All of it. I’m just so afraid that one day when I’m old and when my life is already mostly done with that I’ll realize that I’m not in love, I’m not happy, or peaceful.

I don’t know what to do about my problem stranger. I’m just so afraid of living an unlived life. Everyday I take for granted then try not to think about it at night when I realize that another day of my life has passed me by and I’m still not happy.

All I want to do is be happy, but I don’t know how to accomplish that in such a short life-span. All of a sudden the years have become like months to me, the months like weeks, the weeks like days, and the days like hours. I don’t know how this all started happening but, honestly, it scares me so much. I’m not ready to grow up; I don’t want to see everyone around me slowly drift away from me, and that’s what is happening.

Everyday I feel that I’m slowly dieing inside, but I guess everyone is, right? With each breath we take in, and with every beat our heart makes we each die a little more inside. We’re all going to go one day, but I’m not ready for that day, nor may I ever be.

And what I’m really trying to get at, I guess, is that I don’t know how to make my life worth living, how to make everyday so beautiful so it’s actually worth remembering, but I’d really like to know because I’ve realized that everything that you take for granted in life will one day, without warning, be ripped away.

From,
The Worry-Some Stranger.