It felt more like an unexpected strike, which flashed right trough, a sharp blade inside of tender tissues. I was in a cool university doing a cool project with my cool team — and the next moment turned into a shivering 5 yo trying to hide the rising tears.
All my accomplishments and affections, all my knowledge and experience of last months, all my personality, carefully assembling from puzzles — all was just about to be wrapped and thrown away as a trash. Take me home, bring me back, I will sit in my wardrobe, in the darkness, cos’ it is the only place for me to stop feel this pain.
It’s scary to see how the change of environment, while making you with no doubts stronger and better, more resilient person, leaves these sharp edges in you: one wrong movement, lack of sleep, bad weather — and the pain shoots you. I always wanted to be a travelling knight, I imagine my life as a serie of different projects and experiences, changing places and fields, how cool could it be?
It can be a life full of anguish, bloody pieces left behind, loving new things and missing old ones, a range of constant, painful separations.
And maybe it should not be something else.
Maybe pain is a price for love.
Maybe it’s the only sign of you being still alive, not turning into a wax doll. And when you will grow up enough to operate with truly complex, profound emotions, the pain will be a frequent background ingredient in a mix — like a thunder sky in a pastoral landscape, giving everything this hint of finite, fragile, desperate, blooming beauty.