Maybe it was meant to be that I went through the horrors, wanting to run away so bad. The images are still vivid but I’d rather not let them speak to me again. You see, I’m still recovering from those self-inflicted wounds. The wounds that can’t be seen because they’ve damaged my soul. To me, I would rather have lost an arm, an eye, than have to face the battle for my soul. It’s true that I feel alone, but I have a strength that surpasses the power of the forces bent on destroying me. This strength that comes from above: one that I should’ve acknowledged from the beginning and surrendered to. I was almost about to be eaten alive in this city, walking alone in the streets; finding nothing to look forward to. Not even the smile of an old friend, remnants of sweet memories or symphonies that I’ve treasured could have saved me. I needed GRACE. Without it, I think now, I would be lost forever.