Whispers from the other Side

As I watched you grow, I tried to get used to the image of an invisible hand, patting you on the shoulder, every time you were on the verge of breaking into pieces. There was no other way that such a fine creature could manage to stand up again and again and again after having been torn apart so many times. It was hard, but I preferred to believe that something, someone was there for you, maybe because we were all too lazy, too scared, too drifted away to even think of standing up for you; for you, who was always there smiling at us, whenever we needed to look ahead, before moving on. Unspoken, we all needed you standing strong, we all wanted to know that the world could not collapse because there would be at least one being still keeping the pace, no matter what. I loved to watch your pace most specially. Was it a trigger, a dream, a drag or a feeling of safety? I was obsessed with the thought of someone, something else wanting to keep you on the move, to believe that your pace was not only important to us, that we were all a part of something greater.

Still, when the time finally came, after my eyes - now well used to watching you - could work out a clear capture, when my ears did manage to hear the words, I could not believe what was there... or maybe I did not want believe.

There it was, right by your side, when you were about to give in, when you were undeniably worn out and a tiny step before losing it. I saw your eyes loosing their light, I saw your lips letting out a sigh heavy as steel, I saw your limbs starting to shake under the burden and there I saw the hand on your worn out shoulders. "I am still here", were the exact words. It was unmistakably LIFE, whispering, "and I definitely can not stop."