Worried

Is it weird that I worry about you, given that we’ve never met?

Because I do. I do worry, and I’ve been worried.

You haven’t known it, of course, because we haven’t spoken about it. We barely know each other’s (screen) names. But I see you struggling, daily, and I wish I could help.

Here’s a genuine truth, one that’s been true for as long as there has been writing and reading: it is possible to love someone you’ve never met, just by reading their words.

You think your words don’t make a difference? They have for me, only, you can’t really know that. Even if I was to tell you.

Part of it, of course, is the whole “creeper” thing between men and women. I’m a (married) guy; you’re a woman. Any time I speak to a woman who is not my wife, either face-to-face or online, I am aware of at least a hint of fear on their part that I (the guy) will take the conversation someplace it doesn’t need to go.

Because, sadly, that happens to women all the time. It happens to men, sometimes, too.

But I’ve been worried about you, not because I’m obsessed (or sexually obsessed) with you, but because I’ve come to care about you.

Just by reading your words.

That you’re worried haven’t made a difference.

They have.

You do.

You matter. What you do matters.

You fucking matter.

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means.

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