"What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you?"
Life has an inexplicable way to
mould us, or we – some of us – have a stubbornness not to change our core
identity, no matter the traumas, the repetition of stories, of knowing how
things finally end.
It is in my nature to help others, jump, protect, and make a difference. It is not this part that makes
me feel so exhausted, so dejected. It is the incomprehensible part when I harm
myself, without knowing, through my own help that I offer to others. When at
the end of a long, hectic day, I am the one attacked, removed, watching from a distance the blissful normality of the lives of others. When at the end of
the road there is no connection, no beating hearts, not even a simple “thank you”.