“I love the sun,” said the young woman.
“As do I,” said the young’s woman mother.
“I turn my face toward the sun to feel its warmth.” said the young woman.
“As do I. People probably think me stuck up, but when I go outside, I always turn my face upward toward the sun,” replied the young woman’s mother.
“I agree. But mom…”
“Yes, my daughter?”
“The darkness never leaves.”
“Please explain, my darling.”
“The mind… my mind… the darkness is overwhelming.”
“What kind of darkness?”
“It’s not the darkness of night that is vanquished with the rising sun. This darkness is different.”
“Sometimes it creeps in unexpectedly; other times, it crashes in like a tsunami, destroying any remnants of peace and my grasp on sanity becomes hard to hold onto with the force of it.”
“I don’t know what to say. Is there anything I can do?”
“Tell me more then; maybe it will help if you talk about it.”
“It isn’t a place of compromise. I surrender every time or it’ll strike me harder otherwise.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“Sometimes… sometimes…” words accompanied by a single tear.
“You’re the perfect victim. Call me crazy, but for you I empathize. With each and every blow, I sigh, saying I’m sorry for how you feel inside.”
“Who is saying those words?”
“The part of me that is tired… I’m trying… trying to shake it… trying to control it… trying to eradicate it… I’m tired.”
Silence… a hug.
“Even though it haunts me, I’ll make it out ’cause I live a nightmare.”
“Waking in my dreams, looking for someone to hold. I’m told, “I’m sorry for how you feel inside. I’ll pray for you tonight.” I’m tired.”
“Does it ever end?”
“No. I’m outwardly free, but inwardly a prisoner of my own mind.”
“The sun brings warmth?”
“Yes, but I’m fading like a flower…”
“I love you, stay with me,” whispered in the young ear.
“I love you too, I’ll always be with you,” whispered in the old ear.