By Conor Beaulieu
To my reader,
I am speaking to you. Which means you are listening. You are here, too, in this world. And that gives me hope.
Alone, we are broken souls. Tragedies of a certain type. But hope is not lost in us. We are pieces, meant to fit together to create wholes, perfect wholes. We do not have to exist in the confines of our mental struggles. They do not have to define us.
Alone. I am scripted by the challenges I face every day. Together, however, or hearts, souls and minds have no script. They are granted complete creative license over our lives.
Alone, fear is a vulnerability we cannot live through by ourselves. Together, we can obliterate fear. We can break free of this fear because we are capable of running full, hand in hand, towards the light.
And this is love—the ability to run alongside each other through pain and fear. I want so bad to show you. And you to show me. I want so bad for you to set me free. To hold my hand. And never let go.
This is love.
And for us, who live it constantly each day. Holding tighter and taking one more breath. Fighting for each moment. This is us writing a story with no ending. This is us waiting for a moment to transcribe the art work of our lives and all the good and bad, wonders and tears into magnificent words.
And I smile.
For you, reading this. I want to fight with you. Because of you who does not read for pleasure or guidance. Who reads this to experience a small piece of another person’s life. To walk just an inch my shoes so that you might walk a mile next to them.
We are the heroes of this story. And it is no longer a scripted tragedy. It is blank pages, meant to be colored in for the rest of time.
As I write, I will allow myself to be vulnerable and afraid. But I am not going to give up on myself because of these seemingly powerful forces. I will not give up because you are reading this—because you are positive proof that I, too, have beautiful purpose.
You are living, breathing, wandering proof that there is more for me. I write to constantly prove this point—that we are all interdependent on one another. That we are all monumental influences on the lives of one another.
I write so you can go into the world and breathe hope and courage. I write so you can show me the same.
And then I can look a mirror and I can see my reflection, a constant reminder of what I am. And I can smile.
There is more than just my reflection. There is yours over my shoulder. There are so many others fighting alongside me. Pulling each other from the mud. Pushing through the challenges we face.
My promise to you is to remember this as I write. To constantly smile. To push you to smile. To give you reminders why your life merits this simple pleasure.
I promise to never leave you alone in the dark.
Let my words whisper compassion and courage. My stories to be lessons in friendship and the hope that breeds from it. Let my life walk stride in stride with the wonder that is yours.
Remember that I will always take your hand.
Take my hand. Set me free. And I will smile.
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