I was having a really bad day today. And just to make myself feel better I gave time to listen to the stories and concerns of the day of my friend Alex.
I always enjoy listening to him, I feel like I’m in a place that is safe and comfortable and I forget about my troubles temporarily (sometimes, he takes them away without him knowing it). And he always makes me laugh, or smile. And at times, beautiful.
Then he had to leave. We said goodbye to each other, he said, “Happy weekend and enjoy the concerts.” (He lent me these DVDs of the concerts of Hootie & the Blowfish, Sting, Michael McDonald, and Phil Collins, with a DVD player.) I hate it that I become sad whenever our conversation ends. So I turned to my computer, turned on my internet, and checked if Ala Paredes updated her blog (she’s my favorite essay writer). It was updated one day ago. She wrote about a person she knew who committed suicide.
I wish I could write here whatever it was that caused me pain today, it was just really hard to explain. It was just a minor thing, a spur-of-the-moment which left me shocked, like a dagger through my heart it hurts so much.
So when I read this essay by Ala, oh God, I wanted to cry. I wanted to hug Ala for the inspiration she shared.