Dear Patrick,

And then, for the first time, I felt free. Liberation came in the shape of a wonderful breeze in the darkness while my hair flowed with it, my dress feeling like a flame that drew the pace behind me. I let the cold slip through every pore, sink in in my cells, carefully settled as otherwise unorganized sounds reached my ears and made my skin vibrate.

I felt, for once, as if he was not there because he felt sorry for me. This felt not as a sympathy toast but more like a quiet sidekick, an angel that brought me here. He didn't lead me. He just offered a way to The Only Moment. My moment. I stood up and all the fear of judgement and all the worrying about getting in trouble just...disipated. It was clear. I was not a stranger to my own body. I was not a slave. I was not a fighter, nor was I resisting. But I was. And being was the most meaningful thing I had ever experienced.

Filtering through the low lights that brightened up the tunnel and the roar of the wind, I heard the song through the speakers. In that instant, it was not a person singing anymore, but a mere creation popped into the universe in that very second that existed only for the time I heard it. And again, it crawled into me, tickled my senses and chimed in without knocking, thus making me feel.

I felt.

For the first time, I felt infinite.