I feel like the end is nigh. And I know it isn’t true, for this occasion is but a minor blip in a merry life; after everything she’s been through, I know she can get past this. She is a fighter, after all: beneath that afraid little exterior beats the strongest heart I know.
I say it like it is certain; predestined. And I know it cannot last forever – no life can, after all – but that tactical brain of hers knows how to look after itself.
I just hate to see her suffer, yet I regrettably recognise she does. And I am not the only one; the look on his face as he watched expectantly for her and then the energy of sheer relief which consumed his character as she showed us that one sign which marked her out to be Okay reflected my every change of emotion. And we haven’t let go of It since.
I watch as slumber gets the better of her once more and all I can feel is gladness. Gladness that she is back; gladness that we can look after her again; gladness that we can take that next step of never allowing her to feel that sort of pain again.
Upādāna. What would I do without it!?