Oliver Doesn’t Get It

He’s in a perpetual state of wonder. In awe of his surroundings, his friends, life. He ponders why he doesn’t shine as bright as the others with whom he spends his time. He believes that there has to be more but, if there’s more, why can’t he have some? He’s stuck in his job; he’s stuck in the city; he sees less trees than screens. Oliver is often sad.

A conversation with Oliver is easy and you’d never guess he wasn’t enjoying it. A chameleon, he twists and bends for your benefit. He is convinced that this is life; this is how you make friends. He doesn’t believe that he could make friends on his own and he questions where he would even start. What is it that makes other people so happy? How do you please everyone, including yourself? Oliver is often confused.

Oliver can’t see as clearly as I do that things are not always as they seem. He sees that the grass is greener over there but doesn’t acknowledge how it grew. I know that to truly grow and appreciate the lush green grass, you have to embrace a downpour every once in a while. Oliver sits in a hurricane whilst ignoring his neighbour’s rain. Oliver is often numb.

Oliver doesn’t like to talk about it. He won’t acknowledge that there are people who can help because he doesn’t believe he needs it; not in front of me anyway. But, I know when he and the black dog are all alone, Oliver wishes someone would help. He wishes I’d help but I don’t know how. I keep telling him over and over again that I’m here if he needs to talk. He never does. Oliver is often quiet.

The first step to recovery is admitting there’s a problem, but he is who he is and that won’t change. The bright eyed boy who came into this world was young, naive, and foolish. Now, of course, he knows better. His glasses are not rose-tinted and nor should they be, but they do offer a deeply desaturated view of life. It is only he, ironically, who can’t see this. Oliver is often blind.

I hope for the sake of his happiness and health that Oliver seeks professional help. I hope, if Oliver is waiting for a sign, he takes these words as it.

Sometimes what you believe can stop you from thinking critically and living with an open mind. It’s important to believe in whatever you believe, but you shouldn’t let it engulf you to the detriment of yourself and others. Sometimes belief and truth are far from one another. Sometimes you need a person outside yourself to show you the difference. This is what Oliver needs to understand.

Oliver doesn’t get it, but I sincerely hope he will.

Filed under Daily Letters, Promoted
Charlotte Lynch

Charlotte Lynch is a musician and writer who has done both of these things her whole life, regardless of having an audience or not. Raised and currently residing in Liverpool after studying for a degree in Creative Musicianship in London, Charlotte tries to make sure her life is filled with music, writing, love and happiness. She is pretty much a walking cliché.

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