tinydroplets | Pocket Muse 1: Writing Exercise (Reply)

Dear Sir,

I see you sitting there staring out the window, and the look in your eyes seems so sad. What were you thinking about? You looked so out of place that I couldn’t really understand what was keeping you seated at that tiny oak desk. The tie half loose, the jacket discarded on the back of the leather computer chair, and the hair cut brushed down around your forehead and cheeks hardly seems like the real you. Does it bother you?

Sitting there day after day, each day I walk by your eyes have this far away look in your eyes every time you look at the outside. Some days you don’t look at me as I pass, but when our eyes connected once I could almost hear the silent scream of “this isn’t me!” So I wonder what keeps you chained there. You look so out of place and it’s obvious that you’re pretending to be someone else other than you. I wonder what you look like outside the glass prison, and in the open.

Are you a surfer? Do you like to hike, read, write or draw? Certainly they would suit you better than sitting in the accounting office staring out at the skyscraper riddled skies around you. Take a breath, lose the tie and mess up your hair. It will shed off the weight of the world and make you free. Step outside the office and grab your life by the hand and do something incredible. Numbers don’t suit you neither does that suit.

I wonder what you would have done if your father hadn’t put you there. Would you have been a photographer? A bartender? A teacher? A counselor? The softness you exude is tempered to other things, not crunching numbers. Take off the shirt, burn the jacket and leave the office. I see your soul through your eyes, and your chained.

But maybe one day I’ll deliver a letter to you and hope that you understand I’m not trying to hurt you or make more wounds. I want to be the one to help you see the ones you have, and the ones you should be able to mend. Take a breath, open your eyes, and walk out into the sun.

It’s my prayer that you’ll do something for yourself, and leave your stuffy office and be the person you were meant to be. Not the person that everyone wanted you to be. You’re nice now, but I bet you’re even more beautiful when you’re really you.

Sincerely,

Girl that walks by the window

[Assignment from Pocket Muse: Write about someone who is pretending to be something or someone he is not.]