Prompt-Why Are You, You?

Listening to Noria annoy Liza.

“Why are you like that?” Noria taunts Liza as they enjoy their Golden Latte in their favorite cafe a few blocks from their apartment building.

“Like what?” Liza taunts back, wiping a drip of her latte off her chin.

“Weird,” she said, giggling between sips.

“So, being sensible and living with common sense means I am weird?” Liza asked.

“Yep,” Noria said, nodding between chews of a toasted, cinnamon-buttered bagel.

Liza stared at her in confusion.

Noria explained, “You don’t do anything wrong.”

“Who told you that?” Liza demands.

“Your life and how you live it. I have known you for more than eight years, and you make no mistakes,” Noria reflects.

Liza’s laughter increased her anger as she stared at her.

Then Liza soothed, “You entered my life after life became my teacher.”

“Life is your teacher?” Noria asked, curiosity lining her face.

“Before life became my teacher, I was you,” she pointed to Noria. “I made many stupid mistakes that almost ended my life many times. Then life began to hurt everywhere I turn.”

“I don’t like pain,” Noria states, sighing and staring at Liza with tenderness. Then reached over and squeezed her right hand.

“Sensible people don’t,” Noria informs, sighing too, as the memories threaten to invade her heart, mind, and soul.

“So after making life your teacher, you became smarter and learned to live a better life by being kind, considerate, patient, understanding. . . . . . .”

“I live by the golden rule,” Liza said, cutting her off after pulling her hand away.

“Wow!” Noria expressed in awe. “But that kind of thinking and living, doesn’t it need strong discipline and triple helpings of maintenance, because our world eats people like you alive!”

“Everything we do in life, good and bad, must be maintained,” Liza assured her. “And the ones who don’t know the good will fight to destroy it. Me, or any kind souls, as their meals give them heartburn for life. They belch regrets daily, and all of their medication never lessens their pain.”

Noria glared at her in fear.

Liza reached over and comforted her. “It’s how life pays them back for their cruelty and injustice.”

She nodded in understanding, fear lingering from her heart to her face. “You once said that the hard part for many of us to succeed isn’t getting there. It’s staying there. How do you manage to stay there after so much cruelty and thoughtlessness?” she asked.

“With pain as my guide, I live my life in a way where I consciously add no pain to anyone’s life.”

Nodding, Noria stressed. “How you live so sensibly and wisely seems weird to all of us. We don’t see or know anyone who lives the way you do.”

Liza pushed the pain back, then elaborated, “When I go to bed at night, I retrace all of my steps. Everything I do comes back to me. I thank my creator for giving me today, then I beg him to help me to be a better person tomorrow than I was today.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” Liza answered.

“You remembered all of what you did?”

“Hell yes! If I forget, then pain will remind me when I attempt to be stupid again.”

“Double damn!” Noria cried out.

Silence spoke, and she said, after understanding scored the goal in her heart and head, “So pain keeps you on track and out of hell.”

“Disappointment, failure, regrets, and everything and anything that can disrupt my life and allow pain to grow or win,” Liza divulged, staring at her with a smile.

“I like your way of thinking. So, whenever pain visits, you fix it.”

“It’s examined, scrutinized, dissected, analyzed, whatever it takes to prevent me from hurting anyone or myself.”

“So, you live a pain-free life.”

“No one lives a pain-free life, hon. Pain is part of our lives, no matter what we do or how we live. We can practice pain management and learn to live with it, but we were born in pain, and will die in it. It’s how we live with it that makes or breaks us,” Liza counsels.

“Got it!” Noria said in deep thought.

I am Liza. So are you. Life hurts no matter how good you are. Some of us don’t want to add anything painful or cruel to a world already raging in pain. We are called weird because that’s how we chose to live. Yes, our lives need maintenance. At night, before I go to sleep, I thank my maker for the day, then retrace my day. Then I ask my maker to help me be a better person tomorrow than I was today.

I am me. You are you. Never be afraid to be yourself, because you are the only one feeling your pain and shame. Take the time to know yourself, then love yourself for who you are. Their opinion of you can be a tool or a weapon. Learn to use both with wisdom and common sense.

Do you know why you are you?

Write a prompt showing the world why you are the way you are. Share the wisdom, knowledge, strength, and common sense tools you use to make love, kindness, and happiness stay with you despite humanity’s cruelty towards you.

Your survival tools will heal and help someone improve their life.

Dare to be different! You owe yourself happiness!

I am me. You are you. Never be afraid to be yourself, because you are the only one feeling your pain and shame. Take the time to know yourself, then love yourself for who you are. Their opinion of you can be a tool or a weapon. Learn how to use both, and when and why,with wisdom and common sense.

Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoyed it.