I am not a portrait

“Come here and sit. Not too far, I won’t speak loudly, and the wind quickly scatters everything apart.”
The woman was staring at the river, but her eyes were lost somewhere else.
She saw me coming, and invited me, without turning her head. So I sat.
“It will never go away. I am sorry. You can wait as much as you want, you can pretend you are doing fine, you can trust your silly friends, but the truth won’t change.”
She knew about the devil inside me, the devil feeding off my pain.
“The more you fight, the stronger it gets. If you ignore it, it clutches you from the back. When you look for joy, it chases you dressed as guilt.”
The river flew quietly, the woman spoke smoothly, my wounds were terribly burned.
“You thought to cut them off. You were willing to lose an arm, a leg, a memory, for peace and calmness in return. But nobody can.”
I could only see my pain, at that point, smashed and wet and alive through the tears welling in my eyes.
“It will never go away. And yet, it is always gone. Spy the river…”
I couldn’t.
“You can, don’t rush. From your feet, down along the bank, and then the water. Unleash your sight, let it grab the world.”
And so I did.
“Water flows. Every single drop of it passing by this spot will never come again the same way it is here today. And yet, the river remains. If you fight, ignore, or replace your pain, you will suffer even more. Because you are your pain.”
I turned my eyes on her, she seemed in peace. I was dead.
“Let it flows through your body, your mind, your dreams. Let it change everything it touches. The person you were yesterday is no longer here, the person you will be tomorrow is not yours to predict. And yet, you remain.”
I felt empty.
“Joy and pain, they are both worthy to be embraced and fully experienced. You will be shaped by the sufferance as much as the river is shaped by the water-flow. You are who you are. Sit down, and let it soak in.”
I stand up and walked away.

After a while, I sat down, I sat down and I have changed. For the better? No, there’s no such thing.
I have changed.

Paola