Life is too short for boring stories

You do me good, because you get me out of my delusion with myself. Like a pupa I had been spun into a cocoon of thoughts and dreams. It was time to cut it down and make me a butterfly, but I was afraid it would not work, that the light would hit me, the new, the blinding, merciless light of reality, and I’m nothing more than a pupa. I did not want to know. But you, you knew it and cut open the cocoon to help me and my development. And it was that I spread the wings that I actually had. I was no longer a pupa but a butterfly. And you showed me.

You do me good, because you guard and protect me in my helplessness and disorientation. I hung on that branch, my wings ready to unfold, but it took time. Delicate wings that still could not carry me away. There you were and shielded me from the dangers and the arbitrariness that I had not yet endured, at this stage of becoming. You were there, ready to fend off anything that could have hurt me that would have interrupted development. It was only when you realized that I was strong enough that you removed the protection and let me fly to explore and conquer the world. And you showed me.

You do me good, because you give me the freedom to fly, to discover and to become, more and more. Since you spur me on and challenge me. Encourage to continue the development, to keep on challenging, on and on. Whenever I get tempted to forget about being a butterfly and go back into the cocoon, you catch me. The fear is still there and maybe it will never go, but these are the moments when you hug me and give me your attention because I need it. And you let go of me, let go, when the fear of confidence has given way. And you showed it to me.

You do me good, because you let me be in my life and are to me a place of arrival and return, since you are there for me. If I need you and do not need you, if I am lost and if I feel found, then I can come to you. You accept me, with my laughter and my weeping, with my joy and my sadness, with my daring and despair, with my dependence and my independence, with my strength and my weakness, with my power and with my powerlessness, with my boldness and my timidity. The one like the other finds room in how you surround me with you, lose or firm, just as I need it. And you showed me.

You do me good, because you still accept me even when I am against myself, when I want to free myself from myself and nothing and nobody can reach me, no light and no shadow, no thought and no reason, no encouragement and no benevolence, then you are just there and let it happen. Even then, when I see nothing, feel nothing, seem to be nothing more than my anger and my pain, my despair and my lostness. Or maybe just then. Then you sit down next to me. Just to be there. Nothing else. Because I cannot stand anything else. Until it stops and clears, because you are nothing but there. And you showed me.

You do me good, because I’m always more with you than I would be without you. And yet, I do not make you a declaration of love, because they are usually so poor and threadbare, so hackneyed and worn out, so unworthy and shameful. Also, because there are so many and it contradicts the repetition of the uniqueness that you are in me. It would mean generalizing and robbing you of your individuality, of being mine. A pale imitation of what it really means, that you do me good.

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