Hidden Sorrow

Cocktail

She is all woman topped off with the most beautiful heart and the purest soul, with which she had saved people but herself...

HIDDEN SORROW

"My whole life, I have had a different perspective. Whatever I put my eye on, people neglect. What people think is worthless, I see as an important detail. To me, life is a puzzle. You have to collect all the pieces to get to see the beauty and the meaning of that image. It is not as if I have a bright perspective or a gloomy one. It is just different. Because sometimes, it is not about the bad and the good. It is about something more familiar to me and less for you, or the opposite. It is what I call "appreciation." So when you appreciate little details, you unleash lots of mysteries and answer lots of questions." The teacher said.

That was her introduction, her unique ''hello'' to her students during her first day as a teacher of English. She sounded a bit weird and talkative, but it was okay. With time, they would understand that she was trying to create a special environment where they could express themselves spontaneously. It would be a fine method to teach them. When they would not feel like they were obligated to do something, they would do it better. She was trying to make it fun for them.

Teaching was not the career she wanted. She was a young, passionate, and enthusiastic woman with lots of dreams that she sewed with ambition. She just loved to do everything in her own unique way, not like how people used to deal with things. She had her way, and I am telling you that it was exceptional.

She was nice but very rude at the same time. She found no problem in saying exactly what her eyes saw. She was just too good with words, so she always managed to pick the most specific terms to express her disgusted self if she felt so. She enjoyed herself while doing that. She even called it "honesty." This was her way of explaining her edgy thoughts. So she allowed herself to continue being "honest," and she adored seeing the look on the faces of the people who received her special honesty. That was the detail she was looking for. She just loved knocking their socks off.

She had the soul of a child. She always smiled, and her giggles filled the place. Acting like a child is a remedy. That is what she believed in. Being "childish" did not exist in her vocabulary, and making someone smile was a big thing for her. That is another detail she cared about. 

Making someone smile and arguing rudely, it seemed like these two specific things just do not go together in one person. However, she owned that odd cocktail nonetheless. Other people would call it "contradiction," but "cocktail" sounded humorous. Of course, she was always the one to add her unique sarcasm to everything. She took out the frozen meaning of "contradiction," played the music, and let that word dance; and eventually, it turned out to be a cocktail after the dance was over.

But she was always that wise person, as if she was an old man. She passed through a lot of terrifying experiences in life. She had her own quotes and principles and was never moved by any kind of surprising wind of twisted thoughts. She was clear in her words and actions. And what long, black, sleek hair she had. And those stunning dark brown eyes all belonged to a very well-shaped body. She was a gorgeous woman indeed.

She had a daring personality, but the feelings she had were too deep and delicate. It was not her name that made her—the thing I did not mention yet—because when she was asked to introduce herself, she said: "Let your name be unknown. It did not live your story. Your body did."

She always cared about what was behind people's figures, what their eyes hid. It was not about their names, who they were, or even what they could give. She had a further vision and a bigger intention.

Her name was Imen, and the idea of searching for details got even to her name. She linked almost everything to her name. It was like she was named that, so she had to be that. All faith must be given to GOD, and all the belief in people must be shown and appreciated. Such belief included the belief in herself that she could do whatever she wanted to do. That was a very nice motivation.

All the details she looked for, the random feelings, the weird attitude, and the sorrowful words of people. She kept them in mind, and she wrote about their stories. She neglected to mention their names. She let them choose the fabric, but she sewed it her way. The needle went through her flesh and blood. She felt their sorrow and cried with them.

She always thought that if she nailed to write their story sensibly and not miss little details, it would help them let the pain inside their souls out in the form of sad words; because in their eyes, it was obvious that they wanted to cry to let it all out; and to let other people hear about their stories. It would make them learn from others' experiences.

She wanted to be the stranger with that much information. She wanted them to tell her about their lives without obstacles because she was already a stranger. She would not judge them or criticize their decisions. She dared not even stop them when they were telling her their stories. She let them talk it all out. She just listened and imagined what they had been through.