The night has come, the sleep is right behind. He feels sad and upset. He thought that asking was just a formality. The girl he was supposed to meet never confirmed she was coming. Just left him on read.

He don’t want to judge. Anything can happen, an emergency, a change of heart, a surprise, a fear. Any reason that is hers is valid and should be respected.

But he still is hurt because his head drives him mad, produces movies and dramas. So he distracts himself with other movies, other dramas.

And surely, after every endings, the feeling just crawls out like beasts from the abyss. They take him by the feet as he tries to run. Their strengths are equal to how much he tries to avoid them.

When he finally is face to face with them, looking right in their cold and dark eyes, he sees what is really happening. These are not beasts, and they are not trying to take him to the afterlife. These are his roots, they only convey to him what he needs to know, to see, to hear and to feel so his branches can carry leaves and colorful golden flowers.

Giving him the tools to care and take care of himself. The ability to recognize his needs. Honesty, tenderness, sharing, receiving attention, and that is only some of them. They may increase or decrease, change or stay the same.

He is, once again reminded he can learn how to fulfill them himself. Making any other entity sharing his life not a need but a choice.

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