‘I don’t wander outside the perimeters that you have drawn around me, anymore. I know that you are watching even when I blink my eyes, I feel your breath, warm and moist on my back. The rooms have grown smaller, haven’t they? I cannot stretch my arms anymore. My fingernails scratch against the walls and show me a shade of pink. That was before we had met. My room had sunlight streaming from the meadow and soft chirping of the Robin. Now the sunlight has changed way and you tell me that the seasons have changed. I believe you. I believe you when your screams shatter and break the windows of my solace. I believe you when after the dark, you pick up what is left of me and whisper that you love me. I embrace you with all my might. Although my words are muffled and blurred, I feel that you still understand me. I have closed the windows too tight, the air in my room has become stale. It’s safe you tell me. I believe you, like I always do. There ain’t any source of light and I often wait for your footsteps, to see the light in your eyes. How fascinating they look, carrying the glorious sun from the world outside to the darkness, to me. I take your hand and smell the scent of earth, rain and songs. Songs that I have forgotten to sing. You sit by me and I hear your delicious voice. It takes me back to my days in the sun. Yet I never miss them. My days. Or the Sun. But I do miss, I do miss the sunshine.’
