“However much I would have loved to keep my state of grieving sorrows away from the people I cared so much about, however much I would have fought to keep my ornamental crown of vulnerability hidden from my accusers’ judgmental abuse, however much I would have kept denying my self-afflicted resignation and my bitter fatalism from my weary dejected self, I knew, somehow, that as long as I could see the morning lights, as long as I could feel the breeze of the first daylight, I knew I would be able to hide. I wouldn’t be able to fight, nor would I be able to deny. I knew… I knew I would drench my mourning spirit in the epiphanic luminosity of every new dawn, that whatever illusion I would feed myself with, I would immerse my affliction in that thanksgiving abundance of mercy, I would submerge my self-imposed melancholy in that quenching indulgence of everlasting and fulfilling love and grace. I knew… As much as I knew that I was collapsing on the other side of the mirror, on that very same side where you become the soulless reflection of someone you quite don’t recognize anymore and where you’re no longer able to differentiate reality from your own delusional infatuations… Read More »