An Open Letter to Freeloaders
Dear Freeloader,
I don’t quite understand you. I really try to, but I can’t. All the work you’ve left me is already heavy on my shoulders. Any more of it, I might just break.
As someone that has already experienced being made to lift most of the load unwillingly, I would really appreciate it if you could help me. I don’t think anyone would be happy when they are made to do most — or all — of the work, especially if they weren’t supposed to do all of it in the first place.
I also noticed that you would always have an excuse for not being able to contribute anything. I understand that there may be other personal things that you need to attend to before this, but if you really intended to help me in the first place, you would’ve gone above and beyond.
You may be a friend to me, and someone I could trust. We may even be strangers, yet I don’t understand what keeps you from helping me. In the back of my mind, I already knew you were taking advantage of me, but I didn’t want to make that judgment on you.
We can joke together, even laugh together, but where were you there when I needed your help?
I wondered as I stayed up all those hours, trying to finish all of the papers that were almost due. I couldn’t do it alone, but coincidentally, you had disappeared without an excuse. My eyes were closing, wanting to rest; my head almost falling, about to hit my laptop.
Sleep was luring me. I couldn’t let it win, thinking that you were going to send your work anytime soon. I wanted to receive it at that exact moment you said you would send it, and so I could compile our work. I messaged you, seeing that you were online. I sent you multiple messages, but I think you didn’t bother to even check them. I waited so long, until next thing I know, my alarm started ringing, signaling the start of a new day.
I came late to school, probably looking dead. I staggered while walking, my belongings nearly falling, and other people could really tell I was running low on sleep, as they were scared right as they took a glance at me. They joked around about it, even I laughed. I laughed because I was so stupid to wait for you. Deep in my mind, I knew you weren’t going to do anything, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. Everyone has personal things that they needed to do first, so I thought I should give you some time and hopefully, you wouldn’t let me down. To think you would help me at least pick a name for the presentation or the paper. Yet you weren’t even there to write the first sentence, nor the last one.
My friends crowded around me, worried. I stopped and explained to them my dilemma. I joked about it, even exaggerated my mental state then, as I didn’t want them to worry. They were wary, with uncertainty in their eyes and my tired smile hoping to reassure them.
I turned to look at you; you looked as if you weren’t stressed, weren’t worried. You seemed so carefree, as I looked like the complete opposite of that. I wanted to call you out and get mad, wanting you to do your share like you were supposed to. I didn’t though, thinking that it was too tiring knowing that it wouldn’t really change anything.
All I’m really asking from you is to open your eyes that there are other people that are carrying their own weight. They don’t have the time and power to carry yours too.
Sincerely,
The Load Lifters
