I had only known you for one week.  It was a brief encounter. You said, "Remember, what I told you?" as if you were talking down to a child of five with strawberry ice cream dripping down the front of a white dress. You, the mocking bully, pushed your finger into my chest to shove me down onto the playground of life. Your accusations of condemnation that I would fail at everything I tried to accomplish. I imagined you peering over me while sneering, "Good luck with that!", sarcastically, before you hung up the phone. There was a brief silence. Oh, how angry and frightened you must feel to witness the light I seek while you cry inside all the dark rooms of your soul.
I hope you find peace, soon.