Are co-workers your friends? I doubt it. They’re just co-workers. Some of them you like more, some less, about most of them you don’t really care.
There is that guy at work who always says ‘Good morning’ to me, every day. We’re not friends or anything. We only speak about things related to work. I sort of like him for that. He’s always polite, and his smiley face is like the sun in a rainy day.
I remember one morning. I was really tired after a night full of nightmares. The only thing I wanted that day was to be invisible. Then the storm arrived and destroyed me. I didn’t respond to his ‘Hi’.
My head was spinning, I wasn’t myself. But this wasn’t supposed to be an excuse. I was really rude to someone I liked, to someone who was always nice to me. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this. I heard him say that, yet I decided to ignore him. Why? My moodiness has no limits.
I regretted my ignorance right away. I wanted to fix it, but I really didn’t know how. It was too late. Everything I built in myself collapsed. I can only imagine how bad he must have felt. He must have wondered how possibly he had offended me that I showed him such ignorance. He must have thought it was his fault.
(On the other hand, I might be completely wrong about him. Maybe this situation didn’t have any impact on him. Maybe it didn’t touch his feelings at all. After all, I was just another co-worker whom he just has to be nice to.)
You see, you never really know what impact you have on someone’s life until you hurt them.
How does the story end? Turns out his kindness was real. Real and more powerful than my moodiness and ignorance. I feel like I don’t deserve it… That made me realise I should appreciate more the people in my life.
There once was a drop of water, who had lived on a small leaf near to the ground. She spent there all days disappearing silently into the air at night and appearing again in the morning as dew. Always sitting on the same leaf.
One day, the wind whiffed low and gently brushed the leaf with the drop of water on it. The wind stopped there swirling around.
‘What are you doing here, drop of water?’ he asked.
‘I live here, that’s my home,’ she responded.
‘Why is that? Shouldn’t you flow with the stream?’ the wind couldn’t understand.
‘No, it’s dangerous,’ she said.
‘Shouldn’t you pour down with the rain?’
‘No, that’s too much risk.’
‘Shouldn’t you create waves together with the ocean?’ the wind kept asking.
‘But… I’m scared.’
‘Why are you scared of who you are? Stream, rain, ocean… these are what you’re meant to be.’
‘Of course, these are what I’m meant to be. I am water. I could be anywhere. I just choose to be nowhere,’ the water said and hid behind the leaf.
What is your first thought when you wake up in the morning?
Where am I? How long have I been here? Who am I going to be today? Who am I going to be for the next five years?
I wanted to be someone new. Someone whose life is exciting and full of adventure. I’d dreamed of my new life every day, pictured it in details and couldn’t wait it to be true.
Everything had been drawn. Everything had been planned…. Everything fell from the cliff into the wild sea I wanted to feel in my heart.
Now I’m standing on the edge. Torn. Either I step back into the comfort of the soft grass or jump to catch my dreams. It’s only a nanosecond and suddenly I find myself calling after the wind who takes everything.
There once was a boy, who climbed a hill every morning to see the sunrise. He was sat on a bench watching the sun warm up the earth. I asked him if he wasn’t tired and bored of watching the same thing every day. He told me that he wouldn’t ever be bored of something that gave him life. I didn’t understand what he meant.
So, the other day I woke up early in the morning to join the boy in watching the sunrise, as I still wasn’t sure what all that was about. I climbed the hill, catching my breath and then, exhausted, I sat on the bench next to the boy. We were sitting in silence, watching the first rays breaking the horizon.
The next day I was so excited to see it again that I almost ran up the hill. But when I reached the bench I noticed that it was empty. The sun was ready to rise, and there was nobody to watch it apart from me. As I sat on the bench I found a notebook left behind. I opened it. Then I understood…
I’m standing on a shore, staring at you, and I don’t know what to say. Maybe there’s nothing to say.
I’m standing on an edge, wondering about my life, and I don’t know what to do. Maybe there’s nothing I can do.
I’m standing on a hill, thinking about flying, but I don’t know how to breathe. Maybe there’s no breath in me.
And I sit on that bench. Tired of asking myself questions that have no answers. If I could… if only I could lay my head on your lap, feel the warmth of your body, hear the whisper of your voice, feel your touch on my hand. Then I would know all the answers.
Then I would follow you everywhere, letting you lead me.
I went to the forest, holding your hand. The trees absorbed you. You left me in the darkness. You left me in the cold.
Once again, she went for a long walk, wanting to think things through, wanting to run away from everything she felt. But walking wasn’t helping anymore. There were questions in her head she wouldn’t ever get rid off.
How do you know that your decisions are right? You shake your hand with a person who has been a stranger to you, yet you two have everything in common. Waiting for them to speak up first, you let them go. Why don’t you speak up first?
Standing on a hill and looking at a town that used to be his, she can’t help but think about the only man she fell in love with. It’s been so many years and she still remembered his smile.
‘Why didn’t you kiss me?’ she asked, staring down the valley, knowing he must be somewhere, hoping he hears her words.
Would have her life been easier, if he’d kissed her? Would have she been less confused, if he’d kissed her? Would have she been happier, if he’d kissed her? Would have anything changed, if he’d kissed her?
‘Why didn’t he kiss me?’ she asked again, but there was no answer. Only the wind blew in her face, hurting her skin, throwing leaves at he feet.
When I look at the sky at night, and the stars are shining bright, I think about you because we first met when the night was deep and cold. The town lights on the other side of the river gave us hope and the warmth we’d seeked.
But we could only watch it from afar for we’d been expelled from the place with cracked paths surrounding the trees whose leaves had been singing for us every morning.
Now you’re not by my side and there is nobody to hold my hand. I’m scared I might forget you so I picture your face in my mind and then I feel your presence beside me. I feel the warmth you give me in that cold night whose stars are out of my reach.