Uncaring Me


An old lady came up to me and my friend earlier while we were standing on the corner of the street. She was crying and she’s asking for us to help her. Apparently, her daughter has leukemia and she needs blood donors. My friend and I were quiet for a moment; we didn’t know what to do, or what to say and how to say it. After a few more seconds, I apologized and told the old lady we cannot do anything for her. She said sorry as well before walking away from us.

After that, I don’t know what to feel. I bite my thumb whenever I’m unsure of my emotions, and I did that while looking at the old lady’s back as she crosses the street.

To be honest, there were a lot of things going on in my mind while she was saying what she said to us. Part of me pitied her, another doubted her, and there was also this huge chunk that already knew I have nothing to offer her. As much as I would want to donate blood and actually help her daughter (I know nothing about leukemia and I have no idea if the old lady was telling the truth), I can’t because I’ve tried donating during my birthday this year but they wouldn’t allow me. According to the nurse, I need more greens.

Anyway, now that I have eaten my meal and spent a good few hours of thinking, I realized that I just feel sorry for her, nothing less and nothing more. I sound so selfish and uncaring right now, but I can’t do anything about it.

Sometimes we can’t help but accept what we feel, especially when we don’t understand how or why we do, because that’s just how it is; that’s just what life is.

Daily Post’s writing prompt Helpless.


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