I have been staring at this picture of these daffodils for an eternity through the early morning light, trying to find something which will take this away. The details doesn’t even matter. During my past 35 years I have walked alone in many desserts, forests and swam in fierce oceans. But it has been a very long time, since I have been this lost. My heart was so incredibly raw this morning, I couldn’t even find something in my imagination to cover it. And god I tried through the long hours of the rainy night. I used to always have a back up plan, but I have come to a hard realization that the heart does not do deals or back up plans. I am standing completely naked and vulnerable in the middle of a battlefield, no weapons, no shield, just my words. Words I thought would matter, but you stood there, not even seeing me trying not to fall down. So I crawled away to shelter myself from the blows. I didn’t dare go to the corners of my mind, because you are there. You are in every piece of me, the broken pieces and the pieces that makes me the woman I thought I was. Thought I was.

I whispered through my tears ‘please’, which already was a most terrible and unusual thing for me to do. I don’t ask for help, I don’t ask for protection, but I was almost down on my raw knees. You couldn’t hear me or maybe I didn’t actually say the word. I don’t think it would have mattered. You weren’t fighting on my side of the border. And here I was, having lost all my weapons long ago in the fight for you and still, I got up. Every fucking time, I got up and continued to fight for you. Dirty, bleeding and broken, I fucking fought. At times I even carried you with my broken body. I might have been defeated for a moment or two during the course of this battle, but I hold my own with every viking, every beast and every goddamn dragon. I stood there naked on the battlegrounds and kept protecting you. I did that, no one else. But you didn’t see. You did not care.

And after all the blows and knocks I took, it took one gesture to make me fall down. To make me lose my way, to disorientate me from who I am. It took one thing to break me in a way I was not prepared for. You didn’t see it, again. You missed that split second I was down, because you were busy protecting everyone, but me. You were too busy finding your own backbone, while my bones were shattered by your action and yet, I still stood there, in the mud and rain and pain. For you. But you missed it. You miss so many things about who I am and what I did.

But I got up again. I will catch my breath and find a weapon again. But my cause will be for myself this time. The irony is I still see the daffodils through all this mud and blood. That is all me, not you.

And then, then there were you. He took my hand in the mud and told me I am beautiful. There was nothing fucking beautiful about me, but he saw there could be. And that, that was all I needed. He saw me.