• Lucky

    by  • September 27, 2010 • * Safe for Work *, Disappointment, Friends, Frustration, Love - Pure and Simple, Yearning • 2 Comments

    Dear everyone I have ever met,

    The subject is Lucky, because I can’t help but think of that wonderful Radiohead song when I think about this. “Pull me out of the aircrash. Pull me out of the lake. Because I’m your superhero.”

    All my life, I have been the one for friends to come to. No matter what, anyone can come to me and talk to me about anything. I would always be there, giving support, giving advice, and just being a good friend. People seem to appreciate it. Whether it’s a hug, or a kiss on the cheek, or just words of gratitude, I know I’ve helped them with something.

    This fills me with joy. Because I know, deep down, helping isn’t really me. But I do it because you people mean the world to me. And I’m good at it. I can’t remember a time where I didn’t either solve a problem for someone, or have them go out of it renewed with a sense of optimism. If I can make another happy, because it’s not truly me, I think I did something right.

    So, because of that, I ask, who helps the helper when he falls to his knees? Who fixes the fixer when he’s lost all his tools? Time and time again I have proven that no one helps. The only problems I can’t seem to fix are my own, and because of my sarcasm, my intelligence, and my ability to fix problems, no one tries to help. In fact, once I fix the problem, most people seem to go away from me.

    I’m hurting. And I’m alone. And I know you all know it, because I’ve made it public. I just want to talk to someone, anyone, about anything. I don’t care what we talk about, I just want someone there. I need a friend. Something I don’t seem to have, but was to so many people in my days.

    Besides, men aren’t supposed to cry. And I know I will, if I let it out.

    “Kill me again with love.”

    -Your short, blonde friend. Who you say you love, but ultimately ignore.

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    2 Responses to Lucky

    1. The Good Writer
      September 27, 2010 at 2:05 pm

      Oh, wow. This letter just articulated everything I’ve been feeling yet never felt confident enough to say. I too, often, feel like I do so much for so many… and I don’t mind (most of the time), just because I like the feeling that comes with being able to be counted on. Just once, though… I’d like to have someone to count on and confide in, myself.

      I hate feeling like I can’t even do that with the people I “save,” because it’ll make me appear less like the Superman I like them to believe I am.

      I don’t really know that I can give you some solace about this matter, but I just wanted you to know that you’re NOT alone in feeling this way. If I were around, you could confide in me and I wouldn’t judge you or see you in a lesser light. I know that the “S” on one’s chest doesn’t always bear the brightest red.

      Signed,
      YOUR short, black-haired friend you’ve never met but who relates.




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    2. The Blonde One
      September 27, 2010 at 2:54 pm

      Believe it or not, this does give me some solace. I knew there had to be other superheroes out there. And not all of those superheroes can have their own person to confide in.

      I don’t know you, but I believe you when you say that if you knew me, you would be there. And that would be returned. Why does Batman have a sidekick? Or Alfred? Because he needs people, just like the rest of us.

      I don’t have any physical fears that I can think of, but I am absolutely petrified of being alone. Unfortunately, I have faced my fear time and time again, but it doesn’t go away.

      At the very least, I want someone I help to stick around. It’s beginning to seem like people use me, and then when they get what they need, they’re done. It’s not fair, and it really hurts.

      But it’s nice to know I’m not alone.




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