But it never really felt like something I could have done anything about. It was like trying to keep butter cool by holding it in your hands; the more effort you make, the worse everything gets.
Ironically, it’s really rather bitter being your own poison, and your strength making matters all the more deadly. What do you do?
‘Shh, don’t you see? You do nothing, for there is nothing more to be done. It’s okay, you are love.’