One Step at a Time

He shouts the questions into the dark surrounding, into the ever-present dark which follows him into the day or the night, its oppressive presence suffocating him week by week, year by year:

“Why should I kill myself?”

There is no answer.

“Why do I lie in bed for hours, awake, unable to move?”

There is no answer.

“Why do I suddenly break down and cry when I’m alone?”

There is no answer.

The darkness cannot answer, and this light somewhat protects him.

“I just want a reason.”

A voice does come, breaking through the miasma: “In the darkness, still see one step in front of you. It will be enough.”

I walk one step at a time.

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