Every time I travel, I get this pain in the centre of my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I live through it, hoping it would end with my journey. And most of the time it does.
The ache never really leaves. It throbs and festers like an old wound, come to say hello to a lost friend. That’s me.
I have been running my entire life, passing milestones like seconds and yet crossing eternities in between. Getting fooled along the way, that I got me covered while living with my heart on my sleeve.
It’s funny how open I’ve been to the world. And how I’ve been plotted against, subdued to a point where I lost my voice.
I hear you, and yet I don’t listen to the voice of reason, to back off, to let the world know it’s enough.
Walk away now, with what is left of courage. And hope that you may never find yourself in such a pickle again.
Shifa Naseer 