Letter by Dona Barakah

Posted on March 12, 2012 by

0


Dear someone,

I write you these words not daring to push down with the tip of my pen, as it’s a paper I’m sure would be held delicately by you.

You are human, and you have those fingertips I’m sure are lacked in other humans, but you’re still human.

At one point I thought you were an angel. Your touch magnified an angelic effect of which acted like nothing but utter magic. To my surprise, and to anyone’s surprise, your personality is the biggest doctor in you. It’s just a shame you have no patients, as I’m sure they’d have been healed by just the sight of you.

You healed me from my limits, took me to a place I never imagined I would reach. I was your well-chosen patient and you diagnosed me and managed me on your own, without the aid of any of the books you held. Those heavy fat books held by your hands. I remember them because they gave me thoughts I shouldn’t have had.That was a different type of knowledge of which I may never understand. All I know is that I was cured.

But my heart-full physician, I got attached to more than just your words or cures. Instead of coming again whenever I “needed” to, I “want” to see you day-after-day even if it would mean I’d become ill again.

It was your duty I presume, and you deprived me from it. Why did you have to do that? Least thing you could have done was to teach me how to make it on my own again. I’m a loner, I can’t find a company to advise me of wisdom like yours.

You spoke of my mind, heart and soul, and so you left me drunk of nothing but you. But now I’m sober, and it’s a hell of a hangover.

I can no longer think of you the way I used to. I’m just soaked with dread for the reasons that split us. Not people I despise, as I believe you need a love-cure, too. I just never knew why your happiness would be the detachment of me from you. How is it that you doctors make your fortunate patients believe you come up with loads of love-cures..

Just leave me again like you used to do. Stop me from lingering by taking a stand, too. Stop looking and stop your stares that sink me into that ocean of your admiration, and let me come back to life again.

Goodbye,

wishing you rivers of joy,

and a good memorial, too.

Something you can still remember me of,

My best dedicated to you.

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