It’s true when they say you cant give love if you dont have love for yourself. I never believed this, putting it down to motivational leaders and gurus saying the right things to lost souls in this weird world we live in. But over the last year or so, as I have gone drifting, often looking for just a hand to hold, just a kind word, just a warm hug, I’ve realized it doesn’t come easy. Things look rosy,people look lovely. Often you can see that warm light emanating from a place within them and you think that will be enough to salvage your broken heart, join it together and give it a new meaning. And that realization makes you walk on that path, completely blindfolded by love, thinking that the other person comes from the same place that you do. And it’s true. They do. But that place is also a broken one. That place where they emerge from is also scarred and wounded, held together very gently by strings that are just allowing them, as they do you, to just survive in this world. Go from one day to another. Not kill ourselves but just breathe and look forward to that hour when this day will end and the next one will start, hoping very faintly that it’s going to be different. Deep down we all know it wont be different. At the very least, it will be same, if not worse. But it’s not going to be better this soon. It cant and there’s no point hoping it will. They are also looking to you for hope, for sustenance, for a safe haven. So when you reach out, hoping that hand will grip yours in the dark, you have to know they might not. Your hands might come close, your fingers might touch, your palms might brush each other. But they might not always clasp. And that’s fine. You dont need someone else to hold your hand tight. You need to be able to clasp your hands together yourself, put them over your soul, protect it from the winds that might tear you apart and just know that the power you have in yourself is enough to help you live. For now atleast.