Read This When You Feel Like Falling Apart
The only definition in being human is being subject to error. It is in our nature to be fallible.
By Aman Basra
Your hands are trembling, the anxiety quivering through your fingers. Your eyes are in distress, a little watery even. Your breathing is uneven, quickening in pace as you begin to ramble. You’re spewing arguments, trying to seek validation. Your defenses have fallen, your guarded exterior severed. You’re pleading now as your hands enfold with mine in desperation.
Just stop. You don’t need to do this, this unwarranted plea for atonement. You don’t need to explain yourself. There is no need for a lengthy confession. It’s okay, whatever it is, whatever you did or didn’t do, it’s all okay.
There’s no judgment here, no prying eyes to exploit you of your dignity.
In this house, we uphold empathy. We do not hasten to shrewdness. We do not hide in the ignorance of biased perceptions. We only abide by the objective commitment engrained in the foundation of all-important relationships – to merely listen and to understand with compassion.
My eyes are here to reassure you, and my hands are here to comfort you and these words are here to remind you of a fundamental truth you seem to have forgotten.
There are no heroes, no villains. There are just people, ordinary and mundane. There are just people prone to competing intentions that sometimes manifest in unintended outcomes. Morality isn’t black and white; it’s a complicated colour of subjectivity. Those that are quick to judge are mere cowards; they fail to see this because it makes their crimes harder to swallow. For if they understood that they were no different from the wrongdoer, they wouldn’t be able to handle their damned reflections. So instead, they hide in the shadows of judgment and point their loosely defined morals at others, creating self-defeating constructs of what it means to be human.
The only definition in being human is being subject to error. It is in our nature to be fallible.
We enter this earth with an abundance of uncertainty that can only be rectified by failure and the lessons it births. How else would you grow and develop if not from an accumulation of poignantly worded, fucks-ups? Look at the certainty piercing through my eyes when I tell you this, do not apologize for what fundamentally defines you, do not apologize for being human.
And if the world still seems lonesome, my door is always open. No matter the act, no matter the extent of how far you have fallen or how lost you have become, I am here. I am here, unfeigned by your trials and mistakes because I accept you, every fragmented part.
Because as you exist, you are worthy and you are enough.