Karma
Growing up, I used to see pain and suffering and watch it unfold like a movie, a distance away and safe in the comfort of my painless existence, my bulletproof bubble. Your first thought is that this is something that happens to people, but not to my people. It’s something I thought I would have to develop empathy for, to imitate sadness so that I could try to understand their pain, until I grew up some more. Until grief knocked on my door, I said you must have the wrong address, we are spectators we don’t like to participate. Grief pats my shoulder and walks in uninvited, I wonder how many faces were darkened by his arrival and how he must feel being the bearer of eternal loss, forever unwelcome. Grief taught me that we are all on a level playing field and he will meet us all before he takes us away. He taught me that the distance and delusion I maintained was just inexperience, innocence. Guilt paid a visit too, dropped by to say that his friend Regret was on her way and the soone