Dear God

Dear God,

I know prayers shouldn’t be in the form of letters because it’d be too cheesy or too readable to others when it’s supposed to be between just the both of us or terkesan nyogok dan ngga penting buat orang lain untuk tau doa gue, but hey, if writing a prayer is also a way of expressing fear, faith, and whatsoever, You would still read it, right? Because this is one of those expressions of fear I do not know how to express except in prayers and in words of type. So, this is how it came up: writing a prayer letter.

I promise it’d be as bad as the usual prayers I’ve said to You, though. HAHAHA.

Anyways, God. Here’s the thing. College is just around the corner and as good teenagers would, I’m damned about thinking too much about what I will face. You know, the usual “ntar kalo begini gimana” and things like that, right? Right, those were the things I am about to talk about.

I am currently in a state of desperate sadness, if not too desperate to say as “almost as courageous as dead”. But Lord, You know me: I’m the indeceisive girl who didn’t know anything of her values with no rights to hate but hates anyway. I guess we all lived in a world where what the society thinks we should be is the reality; that what they ask of us is what we should do; and that we wanted to be different but afraid of being different ourselves. I wanted to be accepted; but I don’t know how I should act when I finally become one of their pack members. I don’t know what’s right; I can’t be nothing but a creeper; I can’t be “the same”. One part of me knows that I won’t fit but my head keeps begging me to fit in.

I’ll tell You what, God, I’m just basically tired. I’ve been tired almost half of my 17th years and now half of my 18th. I’m tired of being the introvert. I’m tired of being the weird one – even if “weird” is the term I would only use to myself. I’m tired of just noticing and not able to take actions as fast as others. I’m tired of both judging myself and judging others and being indecesive. I am tired of trying to fit in. I. AM. TIRED.

I’m not saying that I’ve given up yet, but I’m tired; scared. I’m even scared to be scared. Because when people say they hate something, they would turn into that something and becomes as hateable as the thing they hated initially. At first, I thought it would be great to be oblivion to those frightening things, but I found out just recenly that it would make me even weirder because they will think that I’m not living as regularly as they are – that I don’t know how to feel to certain kind of things. Really, though, should all teenagers be feeling this? Dude, no wonder we’re the anomalies of the universe.

Back to what I’m afraid of.

Scary thing number one was the thing I mentioned above: not being accepted. Well, I’ve had that “not feeling accepted” all my life though so I shouldn’t feel as afraid as some others are, I guess.

Scary thing number two, is being pulled down to the wrong society, though, God. I’ve been indecesive my whole life and even though I’ve had this natural gift of intuitive, I tend to divert on the wrong kind of life, You know. Yes, You’ve probably designed me to be wanting a little bit too much to break myself down in order to help rehabilitate others or such stuff; but how can I do it in my own too? To help rehabilitating others is a thing, but not being drowned in to darkest world and not being able to go back to the light is another thing. I’ve got one foot in and one foot out. I haven’t pick a side yet. I’m scared of it – but I still can’t make myself choose in the mean time. Gosh, I’m pathetic, aren’t I?

The third and last to all scariness this whole world holds is as bad as the second one: I’m afraid that I won’t realize my limitations that I helped people beyond what I can repair myself. That should’ve been a good sentence to explain. I do not know any other way to reveal it.

As indecesive as I’ve been all my life though, God, I’ve decided to leave my whole matter of life and death and whatever’s within it to You – everywhere, everytime, anytime. I do want to leave the matter of my soul in safe hands so that I’d be choosing wisely. So, shall we meet again soon? I love you Daddy. –red