Dear Bruce,
Hi. This is probably going to be one of the thousand fan mails you receive every day. Yet it won’t. Because it won’t be among them.
Even if I do mail this, it’s not like I expect you to reply or even read this honestly. It’s alright with me.
Do you know how I came to know about you?
I was in my old school, and we were coming back home. Your song came up on the radio. It was marvelous and majestic. Yet, at that time, though I loved it, I wasn’t a die hard fan. You were just another artist, who made good music.
The all sorts of things started happening. Shifting, a new school, bullies…
Some days were unbearable for me. Like I-can’t-do-this-anymore unbearable. But you turned up on the TV, singing a song about how you love your daughter and you’ll do anything for her. Slowly, your music creeped up on me. It replaced my negative thoughts, and silenced my mind. It made me free of myself. I understood what you sang about. I knew that you knew what I felt, without even knowing I exist.
Your life was a hard one. A broken home, you’ve never seen your dad. You were bullied so bad that you were in coma for three days. Failing school thrice until you dropped out. Drugs. Gangs. Anything that could go wrong, went wrong.
Despite everything, look at you. You’ve risen from the ashes and set the world on fire. You’ve won 15 Grammy’s, an Oscar and countless other awards. But honestly, it’s not the numbers that count.
It’s you. How you care about your fans. How you want them to know and believe that they are strong and beautiful. That we are never alone.
I need to thank you in ways you can’t imagine. You’re the reason I can hear the pen scratch the paper. Feel the breeze on my skin. See the warm glow of my night stand.
You’re the reason I’m alive. There was a point I used to live only to listen to your music and draw. There was a point when I used to cry every night, and you would whisper in my ear that I’m beautiful, and I shouldn’t let anyone tell me otherwise. There was a point where I felt weak, and you told me I was one fine strong solider.
The best part was, you weren’t telling this only to me. You were telling this to anyone who heard you, to anyone who needed you. You were there for everyone, even if you haven’t met them. I absolutely adore that.
I know you get a lot of letters claiming to be your biggest fan. I am one of them, despite the fact that I don’t have any merch to prove it. Though I still love you as much, if not more as those who own it. How can I not love you? You saved my life. You saved my life Bruce. You saved me from myself.
You’ve made me realize so much.
That no matter how bad it gets, life is too beautiful to stop fighting.
That as long as you are fighting, you will always win.
That even if no one believes in you, you should love yourself.
That depression is a battle you can win, and you have enough strength to do it.
That the best part of me is that I’m me and not you.
I hope you know that you mean the world to me. That those insecurities you sing about, you can beat them too. You’re beautiful too Bruce. You’ve made millions realize that.
It’s time you do too.
Infinite love,
Ilta.
YOU ARE READING
Inkless Letters
Random"There is not enough ink in the world to capture my words." * *** ********* The story of Ilta. And the letters she never sent. // Ilta has a lot of unspoken thoughts and suppressed emotions. It's becoming harder for her to keep them to herself. Bein...
