That week.

I have felt my heart stop dead as I watched her wheeled out of the operation theatre, I have felt a thousand flutterings in my heartbeat and a surge of affection flood my being with all the force of a tsunami as I held him, just minutes old, so fragile and so beautiful.  I have shattered as I watched her in so much pain I could do absolutely nothing about. I have felt my strength break and tears well because of the cries of a three year old who missed his mother, I have tried to comfort someone touched by the pain of death, I have felt the helplessness of being miles away from someone I loved who was grieving.  I have experienced a giddy level of happiness and the joy of a new life and the grief of a lost one all at once. I have confronted the fragility of life and learnt to accept its transient nature, I have begun to understand the written fate that spares no one.

I'm harsh and bitter and I let loose my tongue when my anger gets the better of me. I'm self righteous and arrogant and think I'm perfect but I'm not. I sin shamelessly and lecture others not to commit lesser sins. I'm a wreck most of the time and despicable too. I think I  ought to be pitied but I shouldn't. I'm a pathetic shell of who I used to be and there's still a part of my ego that claims I'm good enough. I have hurt people that I love enough to hate myself more than they do.I'm living on a shipwreck that used to be the titanic. People lie. You don't get used to change, you just get used to crying.