This is a monologue that I have written. It is fiction, but I hope that you can see the meaning in the words. I have made up the characters and the situation, but I believe that some people will be able to connect with it.
What’s it like? Knowing that one way or the other you’ll come out untouched? Knowing that somehow, someday, you’ll all be safe. Together. Being there to protect one another and love one another. That’s what family is about, isn’t it? Being there. Well, what if they weren’t there? What would happen then? I can tell you what would happen. Noah can tell you what would happen.
It’s a circle, you see. You start off not believing it. You don’t think that you can carry on. There’s no light, no hope. There’s nothing but darkness and pain. You spend your days in a sort of shallow nightmare. Nothing feels right. You can walk around, following all the routines you like. You say the right things to the right people. You smile when you’re supposed to, and laugh when they want you to. But it’s not right. You – you don’t believe it. You don’t feel anything. You go through life in a dark haze. It’s a shield, a barrier. If you keep yourself closed up then no one can get to you. Emptiness is armour. Nothing can hurt you. It’s like, you know those people who’ve had an injury to their skull? Or the babies who are born with a hole in their heart? The doctors work to fix them up, they give them protection, and the patients and the people around the patients, have to be careful not to let anything near them because they’re so fragile. It’s the same when you lose your family, except you’re both the doctor and the patient. And it’s too much. That’s too much work for anyone to cope with. It becomes overwhelming. So you turn off.
But then, sometimes, a light comes along to guide you out of the darkness. You were that light for me. You showed me the path to happiness. You reminded me how to smile again. And piece by piece, you helped me remove the armour that I had put up around my heart. You taught me how to laugh with emotion for the first time in years. You showed me that some things are worth living for. I fell in love with you, Dmitri. I fell harder for you than I have ever fallen for anyone. You were my light and my hope. I learned to love, laugh and you taught me how to live.
But it’s like I said before. It’s a circle. I started off empty, and I’m empty again. Because I trusted you. You became my life. But as soon as that armour was out of the way, you stabbed me right through the heart. And now I’m broken. They say that when healed, a broken bone is stronger. But a shattered glass sculpture when glued back together is more fragile than ever. So is a heart. I am a glass heart. And I am broken.
Now, once again, there is no hope. There is no light. And I’ll know, next time, that when another light comes along to guide the way to a brief moment of happiness, I’ll know to go in the other direction. I’ll not make that mistake again.