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I held myself beneath an umbrella in the scorching sun, when I was too tired to move. I held myself on the rocky shore, when waves rolled like giants towards the land. I held myself through stormy nights and foggy mornings, when everything before me seemed unclear. I held my own hand when I found myself ugly, even cruel, cursing others in rage. I was bitter with a bitterness I could not explain. I held myself gently and let myself fall upon my shoulders, when I was too exhausted. I held myself, curled into a little world of my own, when the world accused me of so many things. I held myself, even with a trembling heart, when the truth was too harsh to believe. I have always been someone who liked routines, schedules,and t he comfort of knowing what's next. Now emptiness frightens me. It feels like a road I must keep running, lest I am left behind. But somewhere along the way, I began to understand that allowing myself to slow down is not a failure...