Free to need some help…

DarkSideBeingLight-explodingI’m standing on the line, starring at the ceiling. Behind me, there’s a girl laughing and flirting on the phone, her perfume reminds me of summer. Her laugh reminds me of love and I would hide away, but I can’t. I’m forced to stay on the line, patiently waiting for my turn.

In front of me, two old ladies are sharing memories. One of them giggles, the other says something about the modern technology. They have sweet pictures on their phones. Playful smiles and sparkling eyes, a graduation and the first love. A tiara and a diploma, short glimpses in their lives.

And I shouldn’t be here. I should be flirting and laughing with the man I love. We should have breakfast in bed and he should be saying something ridiculously funny about last night. Terrible habit, to talk on my sleep, but I do say sweet words and I’m always cute in my helpless state of dreaming. That’s how he should say, for me to stop him with a kiss.

And I shouldn’t spy on people’s phones, pictures and lives. I should be having a coffee with my best friend, as a reminder of all the little promises we made. That we’ll be best friends one step beyond this world. That we’ll keep each other safe and sane. I failed.

So I’m standing here, on the line, starring at the ceiling and creating false memories. How it could be…What it…Should I…Why did it…

Come here…

That’s when I break down and cry, right here, in his arms. He’s holding me so tight, I can barely breath and this feels so good! I want to tell him about the wasted tears, about the long lost love that’s still haunting my every dream.

It’s okay, I know, I know…you’re safe now…

No, I’m not, but I’ll pretend to believe his lies. After all, life itself can be such a bitter disillusion and we were never friends. I thought I’m saving him, I believed I’m doing it in the name of God and faith and love. He imagined me as his angel, a carrier of the light he’ll never touch. So, in his anger, he destroyed every bridge and every bond.

He made his own choices and created his own way through the darkness. He grew wings of fire while my heart turned into ashes. We’ll never be free of each other, the darkness in him will always follow light. The light in me will always face a deadly attraction for shadows…

But here, crying in his arms, with the world outside slowly fading away, my heart is free to need him. So I whisper his name like a mantra…

Christian…It’s alright, baby…I’m back now…

 

 

I found the image at https://upliftconnect.com/being-light/

The title is inspired by Aura Dione’s song “Friends” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yz8TAwJdxhQ

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Not a victory march!

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“I ran to you, like running to a shelter, because my heart is heavy and tears are burdening my soul. It’s me, the one who needs you so much! Please hide me in your loving arms, even if I failed you. Love me even if I’m unworthy…”

My voice broke in a silent cry, the hurt inside made my knees tremble and I felt so fragile, standing there in front of the cross. The light was cruel that morning and I covered my eyes, but my rosary felt on the floor and, in just a second, fifteen red beans were scattered and lost, along with every trace of hope in my heart…

That’s when I lost it, that’s when the hurt inside took control and I broke down at His feet.

That’s when someone’s strong arms lifted me and carried me, holding me tight, saying warm, comforting words. The voice I knew so well…

It’s alright…

-No, it’s not! I mean it, Christian, it’s not!

-I’m here for you…just tell me what happened, I’ll fix it for you…

-Nothing happened…

But he wasn’t going to settle to less than the complete truth. He asked me to look into his eyes and to tell the story, every little detail, through sobs and tears…

“Okay…but you wont like it, you wont like me. See, I’ve always been a fighter for the things I believed in. My faith was one of them, the first of them. I made a promise to defend it against anyone and anything. But today…

…there were these people, two or three, one of them was the vocal one, while the others just followers. Lost sheep? Anyway, they were mocking the things I believe in. My faith, my God, my church. And I saw them looking at me, starring at the medal I’m wearing. How would they see it? A small symbol, something I wear with modesty and discretion, like a reminder…

…The vocal one came to me and asked me in a very aggressive and sarcastic tone: What is your faith? What do you believe in?…

…and I froze. I could have answer in so many ways, so many beautiful ways…But I just stayed silent. So he continued: So you agree that there’s nothing! He pointed to the sky. And I wanted to walk away, but he just followed me, almost shouting: What is your faith?

…and you know what I said? The coward me, the stupid, unworthy me! I told him:

“Faith is something I respect too much to gossip about it. This is not the way, not the moment to discuss my faith.”

He insisted with an evil grin on his face: “When is the right moment? After a coffee? After doing some shopping maybe? After chatting with your friends maybe?”

I ignored the questions and I ran.”

Oh…

-And I cannot understand why are people like this! Why can’t we treat each other with love, why can’t we be like brothers? Why is it always someone thinking he can teach us a lesson! Why, Christian? Why are these things happening to me? Why was I so scared in front of these bullies? I hate myself for not defending my faith!

He hugged me so tight, trying to sound calm, but I saw the clenched fists, the anger in his eyes.

-Don’t ever say you hate yourself, not if you love your God. You are His child, you call him Father. So don’t, okay? 

-But why…

-Because you are a target ever since you were born. Your precious soul, your beautiful heart, your love…they’re at war, you are fighting a war you don’t even begin to understand!

-I’m losing this war, Christian…

-No! Listen, sweet girl…Love is not a victory march! Neither faith! What is that book of yours teaching you? To love your enemies. Your prayers for them are shaking and breaking the fires of hell…

That’s when I looked at him and realized the miracle of this situation. A man who denied God long ago, a man who call himself “A Luciferian”, a man who despise the church, a man who broke and burned his Bible…

…this man spoke to me words of faith, offering himself as an instrument of Love. He was more of a warrior of light than I’ll ever be.

I touched his face and he kissed my fingers.

-Thank you. From all people…

-Nah, don’t mention it. Where else would I be?

But…how did you know?

-Because I love you. Just that simple.

 

 

The source of the image: https://www.dailystrength.org/group/christian-fellowship/discussion/god-fights-our-battles

 

 

 

So here I am, on bended knees

e873e8ec2912c1db31d8311311a17b3a-d4p3kao“I don’t remember how I got here, the paths I took, the dangers I ignored, the demons I fought…but here I am. To tell you how wrong I was, to hope and pray you’ll listen to the words that sound like damnation…”

The little church was dark and small, hidden deep in the heart of the forest and my knees were hurting, my heart was aching and the regrets were burning inside me.

“I feel I don’t have time and I need it…because I still have love and I still feel life. I’m here, on bended knees…to ask for one more day. I’m not ready, Lord!”

And that’s all I’m able to say before falling. The pain in my heart becomes unbearable, my knees are shaking so badly, it’s cold, it’s dark, it’s….

…a demon or a ghost…a spirit caught between worlds or just…

…him. This touch on my shoulders and the way he’s taking me in his arms. The dark flames in his eyes. And me…I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know who I am anymore…all I know is that I cannot breath without him. Christian…

Don’t cry, don’t…It will be alright. A long life is waiting ahead and not any life. A life of love, a wonder after another. New places…the world! All yours. Say you want it, that’s all it takes!

“I do…”

Come with me. I’ll give you everything you ever dreamed of!

“Love…”

And freedom. And beauty and fun. An easy life, away from the coldness of this church. A life in the sun, discovering the most amazing places of this earth. 

My knees still hurt and I feel like falling asleep.

Stay with me…you’ll never have to kneel again. You’ll never beg for forgiveness, you’ll never cry desperate tears of pain and loneliness. You will be gone for them, forever gone…

“How…if I love them? If I want them with me always…How will I ever be happy without my family?”

I will be your family, you’ll be so loved that you’ll forget all about the past. They’ll forget you…people disappear all the time, for how long do you think they’ll search for you? One year?

“One lifetime. Then another one…”

Silly girl…they’ll cry a few days, mourn another few days. They’ll pray for about a week, they’ll be sad for about a month. One year they’ll remember you through holidays. Then nothing.

His words cut like a knife.

“You don’t love me, Christian. If you would, you’d know how much you’re hurting me.”

He looks down.,

This is my way of loving you. This is how I’m protecting you. Why do you think you’re here? You cannot remember how you got here, so how will you go back home? Completely helpless, defenseless and lost. Will you fight your own heart?

“I will make the right choice.”

And I wake up in tears.

…knowing now, for sure, that he never truly left, I never really let him go…

…wrong place, wrong time, wrong actors. No second chances, no other life to right the wrong. So, even if it hurts, here I am, on bended knees…

…searching for my way out of the darkness. And making the right choices.

 

 

 

All credits for the image to https://foreverdream313.deviantart.com/art/The-Fire-in-Your-Eyes-284021376

 

 

May in the face of hate our love grow strong!

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“-I just need you to close your eyes for one second and to imagine…

A world without lies. Starting with the greatest lie of all. Free will. An illusion made to make you feel guilty when, in fact, you have no control at all. Don’t say a word, just imagine…

A world without punishments. No ten commands, nothing to cast a shadow on your joy. Yes, you heard it right. The joy of life. When was the last time you felt it? And where? Between two decades of your Rosary? Or maybe while imploring your God to save someone you love? Don’t answer, just imagine…

A world without worshiping. You are in the center of this world. The perfect you. You, who were meant to rule the Earth, but someone decided different. You could be just as strong, just as powerful, just as bright. Your one and only goddess. Yourself. Tell me now, how do you feel about it?”

I opened my eyes and saw his smile. Then I hugged him a little longer, a little tighter, a little warmer. He took my hands.

“-So, this means YES?”

“This means goodbye.”

And I turned away, knowing for sure that I’ve made the right choice. And the falling tears are just because my heart wandered in places it shouldn’t have. I can’t save the world, I can’t save him and sometimes I’m even unable to save myself.

“-Why?”

I could defend my faith in thousand words and it would still mean nothing to him. I could talk about God and light and love until forever and a day, and it would still not change his choices. I could…

“-Why are you crying if you’re in peace? Why are you walking away when we both know you want to stay? Why are you such a damn hypocrite!?”

He pulled me closer and I know he can see my tears. I’m gently touching his face and, for the first time, I see the wildness in his eyes. I wish I could say the words…

“I cry because I love the light in you and I’m seeing it fading away. It’s my fault, that’s how I feel. My faith was too weak or maybe my ego blinded me. It was so nice to be the center of your world, it was like an addiction and I took it too far. I lost you and I was close to losing myself. And I cry because…I was tempted. I was on the edge. Our friendship was supposed to save you and, instead, it leaded me to the abyss…”

But no words come out of my lips and my heart stays quiet.

“-I hate your God! Your Jesus! Your Rosary! Your church! Your faith!”

“It’s okay, I will love Him a little more. Because He loves YOU far more than I ever will.”

I whisper “Goodbye, Christian” as I close the door behind me. I hear him screaming in agony “I love you! I desperately love you!”.

And we both know it’s a lie…

 

 

 

Don’t let the darkness win!

777fc17b4c00e4c0ef1b818a1188fc0cI’m looking fascinated at his tattoos…I never saw them so closely. I’m tenderly touching his arm, the cross with a serpent surrounding it and some Latin words…And on his shoulder, covered by his shirt, there’s the black sun, every ray having a sort of incantation written on it. He seems amused by my interest…

-Well, aren’t you going to ask? Their stories…

-No…I’m just so happy that you went to the church and talked to my priest in the confessional…It was the most unexpected…Thank you! Thank you, Christian!

I’m hugging him again and again and he laughs.

-He’s a very sweet man, your priest. And confessing my sins brought a peace I was longing for. I’m ready to make a change, to start a new life and a different relationship with your…no, sorry…with God. And I need your help…

-Anything…

-You see…I’m a bit scared of needles…Why are you so amazed?

-Needles?

-Yes…to remove these…Okay, you can hug me again for encouragement!

He’s removing his tattoos! He’s removing his hate and resentment towards God…

-But…the scars…

-I’ll replace them with something…a surprise for you!

I can’t wait. The child in me jumps in joy. It’s spring in my heart!

-No, tell me now! Pleaseee…

-Okay…you…surprises breaker! I thought of replacing them with butterflies. A symbol of a new path, a new life. And also…it will remind me of you…so I’ll have you with me…always.

I could cry tears of joy now…I do…But I don’t want him to see…

-So please hurry with anything you have to do…the appointment is in an hour…

healingself

I rush into the church, trying to find Father Anthony…

I can’t see him, but I hear his voice. He’s holding The Bible in his hands. He cries…his hands seem so weak, I’m afraid he’ll drop the book…He’s pale and trembling and, with one hand he presses on his heart…

Father Anthony…are you alright?

He didn’t noticed me…but he reads in a louder voice and I have this feeling…something is so wrong…

“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

-Do you recognize the verses?

-Ephesians?

-Ephesians 6:12…May God protect you and have mercy on your soul, child!

I’m standing there silently. He rarely calls me “child”…only when…

-How can I help you?

-Oh, I was just passing by and I thought I could join the Rosary group…but I had a change of plans…I’m helping a friend…you know, he was before in the confessional and…

He looks at me with sadness.

-The lamb and the wolf cannot walk together. Your enemy cannot be your friend. See, we live times of great decisions. What path will you chose?

-I’m sorry, but…he said that confessing his sins brought him peace…and he wants to start a new life…You met him in the confessional!

My voice betrays the desperation inside me.

-It was not a confession! It was a declaration of war.

-You must be mistaken him…

He takes my hands into his old, weak hands.

-Open the eyes of your soul and see the truth. You’re like a sweet butterfly, flying to the light. Some lights are just darkness in disguise. Anyway, I need your help with the gifts for the orphans…

I don’t hear him anymore. A butterfly…they both said the same…and I…I need time…

-It’s only for the next hour…

Where will I go in the next hour? When my every road seem to take me to nowhere and lights can be just as deceiving as darkness.

So, here I am, sitting on the stairs of the old church, in my secret hiding place…

What path should I chose?

 

One day I’ll be thankful too…

rain

I can’t remember for how long…it seemed like an eternity…I just stood there, on the cold, wet bench in the park, with leafs and cold rain drops falling over me…Dark sky above me, dark thoughts inside…

I know that children get sick and catching a flu is natural in this cold weather…and I know that a house can get messy, things all around…and I know they need me…but…Lord…I’m tired, didn’t get much sleep, haven’t got the time to eat…and I turned to him for comfort…and…once again…he’s tired and frustrated too…I just need to feel loved…just a little bit…

I don’t know how did he find me there, since the bench was pretty isolated…and I can’t explain this joy I’m feeling inside when I see him…

-Christian!

-Hey…you forgot your umbrella again? Here, take mine…you’re frozen! Come on, let’s go somewhere nice and warm…

I need fresh air…just for a minute…

He’s putting his arms around me and all I can do is to close my eyes and pray this is more than a dream. I feel his fingers through my hair…

-What’s that? Oh, I hope I didn’t break it…

My silver necklace…St. Benedict medal..I always wear it in my moments of dark…just a reminder that someone, somewhere…still loves me…

-That’s my…

-This is a Saint Benedict medal! Why on earth are you wearing such thing? You know, there’s a thin line between…are you aware of the significance of this?

Saint Benedict medal is a symbol of the fight against evil. People also wear this medal sometimes when they’re praying for an easy, painless way of dying. Still, the power is NOT in the medal itself, but in the faith and love we’re carrying in our souls.

-And why is this bothering you?

-Because you deserve more than this blind faith in something that never answered, never proved to be real!

And I can’t take it anymore…

-Let’s make things clear, Christian! Tolerance is a two ways street. Don’t think I didn’t noticed how you never miss a chance to say a bad word…and don’t think I didn’t noticed that tattoo of yours, with the black sun! Yes, I did! Next time you attack my faith, be prepared to defend yours!

-Okay.

And he walks away.

Abandoned and alone, here I am, in the cold November rain, still refusing to cry, still not able to go home, still willing to believe…

It felt like forever…

The smell of something sweet and his warm touch.

-I brought you…this.

A chocolate cookie…

-I bought it from the bakery across the street…I don’t know if you like it…

-It’s perfect…thank you. And forgive me…

-I kicked myself for talking like that to you…is just that…

No, it’s my fault and only! I sounded so arrogant and superior like I’m some kind of preacher when I’m just a lost soul…filled with doubts and fears…And I’m so thankful, so grateful to have you in my life…

-Please let me say it…One day I’ll be thankful too. I will believe too. But for now, I need this anger, I need this rage…to keep myself alive. This is my way of surviving.

Tears are running down my cheeks.

I guess you’re smarter than me…my way of surviving was always Love. Look where it brought me…

He takes me in his arms.

Love is a two ways street too, just like tolerance. I need you…but you need to go home…And one day, when all this rage will be just a wild memory…I will be thankful too. 

 

When you have no light to guide you…

I’m ignoring them. The voices in my head, the prejudices, the rigid rules, the “should be” and “shouldn’t be” and I run to him. With an open heart. I need to stop this torment in my heart, this continue search and calling. Even if it means that I’m going to break some boundaries.

Hi, remember me? The impolite one? The one who pretended that she doesn’t know you. I want to apologize. And to invite you to a coffee.

I’m all blushed and agitated and he looks at me slightly amused. I’m lost in his eyes once again. Dark circles around them…He hides a soft toy and I pretend I didn’t noticed.

“Hi…you have nothing to apologize for. I was awkward. And you, so sweet and kind, you…don’t ever call yourself impolite. Not because of me, okay? Now, you were saying something about a coffee?”

I want to make him smile…I need to know what’s this sadness in his eyes and replace it with brightness. He’s quiet and he stars again at my little crucifix.

Do you like it? I can give it to you, I have more than enough at home. I got them from a medieval church and…

“Please don’t.”

He said it so abruptly leaving me no place to ask or to comment. There’s a shadow upon my heart and I feel cold. I feel the need to hide away the little crucifix. To run away…

“I scared you…I didn’t meant to sound so…harsh. I guess I forgot how to act around…women. Well, that sounded awkward as hell…”

Christian…can I ask you something?

He nods.

Can I hold your hand? 

I’m being stupid. My heart jumps out of my chest and my fingers are trembling. He smiles at me, and he takes my hand into his palms.

“I…from all people…I’m the last you should spend time with. I’m not a good influence, I can’t bring anything good in your life. I only destroy. What I touch dies and my love is a cursed one.”

I feel the crucifix burning my skin. (Run. Run now.)

I know…I’m here just to hold your hand. We’re strangers but somehow I trust you and your smile makes me happy…somehow…”

“You trust me?”

Yes.

“Show me.”

How?

“Follow me to the end of the world.”

And, just like that, he stands, takes my hand and we’re going…I don’t know where.

(Run away. Run now. You don’t know him. He could be a criminal.)

He suggested to take his car and I froze. I actually said nothing, but I must have looked so terrified…”Okay…no car then…but is freezing cold…” I’m trembling. He puts his arm around my shoulders and asks me if I’m alright. And I…(Run!)

I’m alright…

“I swear I’m not a serial killer…sweet girl”

He called me “sweet girl” and, along with his playful smile…it melts my heart.

“Okay, we’re almost there.”

Where?

“To the end of the world.”

I see a cemetery and I panic. The place is pretty isolated and, as we’re walking right in, I just wish…I wish I’d be home, with my family…I look at him and I see…

Tears…

“I have no right…to drag you…into this…I’ll take you home.”

NO.

“No?”

You said…to the end of the world. 

(Ask him to take you home now! You’re insane! Stupid! You deserve whatever…!)

We stop at a small grave. A small pink grave where he’s gently placing the soft toy. He’s caressing the small cross whispering something through tears.

So many pink toys, flowers, messages…And two bright eyes watching me from a picture. A little girl. His. And I stop breathing. My heart hurts like never before. I want to say something, anything and I can’t.

“This is the end of my world.”

I’m crying and he takes me in his arms.

“Thank you for being here. Thank you for trusting me. I’ll take you home now…I’m not good…for you…I have no light in my life…nothing…only darkness. Can you see it now?”

I touch his face, wiping away his tears.

I’m here for you. And if you feel you have no light…just take my hand. Follow me back to life…would you? Let me be your light…

 

I want to stand with you on a mountain!

His touch felt like butterflies on my arm and I couldn’t stop smiling. He noticed, of course he did and, for a moment, that deep sadness, that endless solitude I saw in his eyes, seemed to melt.

“Hi. You probably don’t remember me.”

Oh, not only that I remember him, but I prayed to God to see him again. One more time. And now I wish I could hug him tight. A perfect stranger…I have no logical explanation and it’s completely out of my control, but he makes me happy simply by being near me. No need for more…

“I’m the one…with the book…and I think I scared you last time. I thought…there’s a coffee shop and it’s still early…you probably didn’t had coffee yet…and…I’m talking way too much…”

I’m looking down…my heart is saying yes. My heart is shouting YES. But…

“No, not like that…I saw…the wedding ring…and I would never…it’s just coffee. I know you belong to another…”

I don’t belong to him. 

“Of course you don’t…I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me around you. I say stupid things and I act like I would be on medication…or something…I’m sorry…I’ll just go…”

And, just like that, my heart wins. I’m taking his hand in mine, looking deep in his eyes.

I guess we both need some coffee.

I can actually see the excitement in his eyes. Then sadness again…I need to go beyond this sadness. I need to see inside…to climb this protective wall…

Why are you so sad? Even when you smile…

“Please…can I hold your hand?”

I give him my hand unhesitatingly and anyone who would see us now, would think that…But it doesn’t matter, what I feel for him is so innocent, so pure…

“You gave me faith last time. I’m such a mess…I cry at nights…and I was always strong. I don’t know why I tell you this…”

What happen to you? I want to help you, with anything you need. 

He looks down and I notice his old shoes and the same shirt washed over and over again until the colors are all pale…

I…if you need money…I can…

He pulls away his hand almost instantly and I feel so bad. There’s a fire in his eyes…dignity…pride?

“I do not need your money! Your money can’t buy life, do they? Can they buy time? Can they erase this death sentence?”

He shows me a piece of paper, but I can’t see because of my tears.

I’m sorry.

I’m running out crying and I know people are noticing. I probably lost my mind simply for being here, with a perfect stranger. A stranger I seem to…love? Did I really said that?

“I’m sorry. Please stay…I had no right…You said about having faith in each other…and I have faith in you…please…”

I wish I could help you, but I can’t. See…I’m not really a warrior. I cry at nights too. And I lost too many friends. My life is filled with ghosts and shadows. I can’t stand losing someone I love. Not again…

He seems lost, almost scared. But he looks straight into my eyes and he smiles.

“I would climb a mountain with you and I would fight death for you…Just to be that someone you love…”

You are.

His touch on my arm feels like butterflies.

“Hi. You probably don’t remember me.”

I look down…my vision before was too intense, too real.

No, I’m sorry…you’re probably mistaken me with someone else. 

“Oh…it’s alright…I thought…here…for you…you were nice and I thought…”

He gives me a piece of paper and disappears in the crowd. A portrait. Mine. With big eyes, filled with tears. And a mountain behind.

 

 

If we have faith in each other…

I don’t know why I looked behind, but there was something about him that touched my heart. Maybe the dark circles around his eyes, the redness, the traces of tears, the nervous smile when he noticed me…

The line seems to be endless and everyone is irritated. Someone calls the manager and I hear people raising voices. I’m next…I’m looking at him, he’s at the end of the line, holding a bread, a bottle of milk and some eggs. He’s actually holding the food like he would hold on to his life. I’m leaving my place. I have to do this!

-Hi…I saw you’re the last in line and I saw you bought just a few things…if you want, we can switch places…see, I’m next…

He freezes for a second and I wonder if he understood me. I smile at him, showing him where should he go to pay for the bread, the milk and the eggs…

-I’m fine, thank you, I’m really fine. I have time, it’s alright. Thank you for…

Someone calls me…I have to run to the checkout…

an hour later

The small book store is the best place to hide from the rain outside. I’m looking at the history section…

-Hi again…remember me, from the supermarket…you’re a passionate of world wars too? I saw you looking at…

I looked into his eyes and he froze again. I’m sure I look a bit weird holding these huge bags…

-…aww, you’re going to a trip, right? I noticed that you only bought imperishable food..that’s how people do before a catastrophe or before leaving for a very long time. I’m sorry, is none of my business.

He’s holding a magazine about World War II…with a tank on the cover. His fingers are trembling. He stars at the little crucifix I’m wearing.

“-You mean these bags? Oh, the only catastrophe would be if I don’t get them in time…They’re for the shelter, for homeless people. Not for myself…”

He starts to apologize and I have this feeling again. There’s something about him. I ask him about the magazine he’s looking at.

-Yes, see…here, there’s a whole shelf with books and magazines and newspapers…all about war. I need to study…

I wish I could assure him that we live peaceful times…but, after all, what does it matter? When the war is inside him…I look at him and he tells me about war techniques, new guns, mass destruction, propaganda…

-…so what would you tell them?

I wish I knew what he’s talking about, but I stopped listening long ago. He repeats, convinced that he asked a key question.

-You have a group of soldiers. They’re surrounded by enemies and they have absolutely no chance. They will be slaughtered. They start to pray, but no one up there cares about them. They’re losing faith. What would you tell them…when they’re facing death with no hope or faith?

My God, it is a key question. I’m trying to buy a little time.

“-Hmm…well, it depends. Am I one of them?”

He seems shocked.

-Ummm…I guess you are if you want to…that would be logical, if you’re there to fight, you’re a soldier too…What would you tell them?

I would tell them that it’s alright to be afraid. It’s okay to be angry. To feel betrayed by God, by this world, by everyone. It’s normal to feel like we’re losing faith. But, if we have faith in each other, we already won. No matter if the enemy is stronger, we win every battle, till the end. As long as we have faith in each other.

He takes my hand.

-Thank you…can I…can I give you a book? What you just said…no one told me that…before…So…can I? It’s one of my favorites and I saw it here on the shelf…Alistair MacLean “Where Eagles Dare”…And I will write you something…for you to read…

I try to protest, to tell him that there’s no need…

-It is…I need to…See, where I’m going I don’t need money or books. All I need is faith. You gave me faith…Please don’t forget me in your prayers.

Why are these tears so hard to stop?

“Fly high, beautiful eagle.”

That’s what he wrote…

So you can sharpen your knife…

He saw me watching…

And he knew right away that the image he tried so hard to create is falling into pieces. The fear in his heart, I could almost sense it…

No…I’m not a predator and he’s not my prey, even if…

Hello…Good afternoon…uhmmm…I was just…

I’m sorry that he’s scared, I’m not used to…It’s not a good feeling when you look into someone’s eyes and you see there…guilt, fear…shame?

-I wanted to say…I’m sorry. I’m very sorry for everything I said about your religion…I’m sorry for putting you in that horrible situation. I know you felt accused. I was wrong and, please, accept my apologies…

He speaks so fast, he’s running out of air. He’s chocking, his face is getting a purple color and his eyes are blurry. His life…he’s fighting for his life. Right there, in front of me. And if I don’t stop this, he’ll loose…

So I take his hands into mines.

-It’s alright. If I ever felt any kind of anger towards you…well, it was a burden much too heavy…so I let it go and replace it with forgiveness…

-So, you wont…

-I’ll tell you what I saw. A good man, in a moment of weakness. A man searching for love in the wrong place. A man who’s dying to save himself from…you’re the only one who can answer to this.

He’s trembling and the purple on his face was replaced by a pale shadow.

-I will confess it…I will go in front of them and I will…I just need time. I will go home now to prepare…

He wont. He wont make it back home, I can see it in his eyes. I have to fight this battle…

-We all make mistakes. I’m not perfect, you know? A few months ago, I almost ran away with a stranger, leaving everything behind. I’m still unable to forgive myself. I’m still falling…I still…

I’m fighting my own tears and I wish he would hug me now. Not him…anyone…But he takes a step behind.

-So you cheated your husband…that’s really serious and you know, it speaks tones about your relationship with God. Because it’s not a moment of weakness, what you did was planned and deliberated. And a fake christian is worse than a non-believer. I’m sickened by you…

He seems victorious even if he jumped to the wrong conclusions. It will help him sleep well tonight. It will allow him to look in the mirror in the morning. It will keep him alive.

I turn my back to him. For ever…

-Don’t…forgive me for what I just said. You’re welcomed in our community if you ever decide to repent and to…

And I simply leave. I will be the subject of his Sunday sermon. My smile is bitter, my heart feels heavy. He’ll survive, but what about his soul?

How many sharpened knives will tear apart our fragile consciousness?