Dear friend, I am writing to you today to ask how you have been holding up. I heard stories of how life has dealt you very bad odds. I’ve been getting your texts: how you have been on the wrong end of proceedings lately, how tiring life has been for you. I have seen through your smiles on social media. I have heard what you have not spoken. I see how much your desire to live is.
I hear you, my friend. I see you.
To my friend who is in a patch of depression, I salute your courage to deal with this thing. It’s the second time you’ll be passing through this sad episode, and I still can’t fathom how you keep falling victim. Good things should happen to good people, I wonder why it’s not true for you. Maybe it’s not really how life works.
You’ve been through a lot. I know things have been hard and the weight you’re carrying feels almost impossible to bear. I just wanted to take a moment to remind you that you’re not alone in this. It breaks my heart to see you struggling like this. I hate to see it. But through all of this, I am here with you, I am here for you.
I know you don’t have it all figured out right now, and that’s okay; what matters is that you keep fighting through the unfortunate time and that you retain your resilience. Your well-being means so much to me, and I am proud of you for every step you take to that effect.
Your sun will rise again, my good friend. You will be fine.
To my friend who has been literally troubled on every side, I can’t begin to imagine how overwhelming it must be to have to deal with all the pressures you highlighted in our conversation. This is unfair to you. You don’t deserve all that you’re going through.
Know that it’s okay to feel exhausted. I heard you break down in tears for the first time on the phone last night, I felt it when you did. When you told me how difficult it’s been for you to feed and survive, I was touched.
My heart goes out to you in prayers always. I’m ready to go all out to see you smile again. I’m willing to do everything within my capacity to restore sanity to your daily experiences. I will be with you all the way.
Please, don’t stop trying. I know it’s hard for you to keep showing up, but please do. Don’t get caught up in the weight of everything that’s going on. You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t, but even in these times, you need to know that I’m right there by your side. One step at a time, we’ll figure it out together.
Brighter days will come, and you will find your footing in life again.
You mean so much to me, and I care deeply about your well-being. Stay strong, my friend.
This is for my friend who, by the usual standards of time and life, feels like they’re already behind schedule, I can only imagine how hard it is to look around and feel like you’re behind where you thought you’d be. But I want you to hear this: you are not defined by a timeline, and your worth is not measured by conventional milestones.
I see your plights. I know what you’ve endured. How you dared to ride the storms that threatened to sway you off countless times. How you spent a big chunk of your early years in struggle, and how it has landed you in a battle to gain time.
I know how you stood in the gap for your younger ones. I know how you hawked on the streets of Lagos, dodging cars, reading faces, and adapting to all kinds of moods, all while bearing the weight of a tray, a dream, and a story that isn’t seen but is always felt. You saw people that made you wish you could swap places with them — I must tell you that that hope of yours is still valid, age regardless.
I know you are worried about your late start-up, but I want you to know that there’s no expiration date on dreams or achievements. Life doesn’t come with a strict schedule. You’re not too late. You will still rise to the top. You will still shine bright.
I have heard you sing. Your voice is ethereal. Of your singing career, your dreams are scary but possible. It will happen. In five years, I envision a flood of requests pouring in — messages clamoring for a session with you, or even just a photo opportunity. And my response? ‘Join the waiting list!’ Because by then, your star will have soared to unprecedented heights, my friend. You’ll be in high demand, and I won’t be surprised when people are eager to catch a glimpse of your shining success.
You will soon be celebrated, that I’m sure of, and I’ll be here for it all.
To my friend and brother who just lost a dear one, I have a good guess on how you feel right now: sad, crestfallen, heartbroken, and downcast. They mean the same thing semantically and that’s because there’s no single word to describe what state you are in right now.
My heart aches for you. In times like these, words can seem so small, but I want you to remember that I’m here for you, and more importantly, so is God.
I pray for you, my friend, that you find peace in this season and feel Christ’s comforting presence wrapping you in His unfailing love.
I hope that at the extreme end of this phase, you will come out bursting with gratitude for the strength and hope you have attained .
I hope to see you then. I hope to share a warm embrace with you. And all through the journey to that period, I’ll be there with you.
Stay strong, my friend.
Dear friends, I’m here, not just in words but in action — through every dark day, every silent moment, and every heavy breadth, I will be there for you. Life can be very unfair to various degrees but one thing you shouldn’t have to worry about is retaining my support. As much as God gives me grace, I will do my best to ease your burden.
Keep taking the small steps, they count. It is okay to take things one moment at a time. Things will fall into place. Every good thing will come in the fullest of time. You will not struggle forever. You will catch your big break soon. You will win. Your name will be written in gold eventually.
Keep trying, my friends. Don’t give up.
I love you.
With all my heart,
Imoleayo.
No responses yet