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Of all the things to be used for I rather they chose my body than my counsel but I won't complain. My light has eventually become a burden. I didn't know people could exploit you for your wisdom, for your experience, for your silent trials and unseen tribulations. I had no idea I could become an advice column over night. That through my tossing and turning and defeats against the devil unknown was something to be proud of. Oh I had struggled and cried, been made a fool of many nights for love's sake. I had been shamed and laid out in the square to be spun in circles of bloody confusion. I was falling in a vortex of my own mercy for others. Pain is something no one should bare alone. But there I was day, and night, staying awake to relate, to share a story, to reveal, to speak life, to be real. Stripped bare in my own confessions, the beautiful nakedness of my soul soothed uncertainty. I wondered what they thought of me. Did they have any sympathy for me at all or was it only about what I could give them from my peace? It's a hard thing to be human, to be used instead of loved, to be ripped in pieces forgetting what wholeness even felt like. All I wanted was companionship. Someone to hold my hand in late nights through the black jungles of unclear thought and stinging perspiration. I stayed present because I never knew what the future held. I dealt with myself because it seemed no one else wanted the responsibility. I just couldn't be wounded, lame or blind and accept it as fate. I choose to act if nothing was wrong but they remind me without fail, I am indeed what I choose. I have chosen to appear alive when I am dying. When I am weak and still trembling along the edges of consciousness and time, growing wrinkled with the notion that I am strong, they return; this is why I am still alive for them I suppose ....So, thank you.