I’m lying on the bed, and my thoughts are spinning. I replay the last day, maybe even older moments that changed something. One question remains, one I’ve heard more than once. Your question. “How can you be so sure?”
It’s very simple. It only took putting thoughts in order—thoughts that, even in chaos, gave clear signals.
“Imagine wandering through darkness. You can barely see, you’re frozen, but you’ve already understood that this is what the world is like. There’s no warmth left in it—or at least, you never seem to find it. You try to light a fire, but everywhere you reach, the wood is damp, unable to burn, and the air too heavy to let it dry. During sleep comes the only comfort—a dream of fire that warms you. That dream brings a bit of heat into your life, just enough to keep you from freezing completely. Sometimes you think that sleeping and dreaming forever might be easier.”
Isn’t that right? And why…
I walk through that forest and see a small flame—tiny, unfamiliar, yet so precious. “From this day on, I’ll give it all my energy, just to keep it burning, to protect it from the world around it.”
And it burns. It grows stronger. It warms me in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s no longer impossible. It’s real now. I no longer see dimness, because it has brightened everything. I know that together, we can be happy. Because it warms me. Because I’ll take care of it. Because together, everything flows so naturally…