We become accustomed to a thing, to someone. We attach ourselves, like algaes on whales, living through them, and bam! one trifling moment they vanish, they leave. What we are is no more, and we no longer have a grasp of what we could be, because without our host, we’ve told ourselves we possibly cannot live. We’ve defined ourselves through someone, invested all we are into something. We feel lost. But there still are the beats of our heart rhythmically hitting the walls of our chest, the flow of tears pouring from our eyes and the pressures of life trouncing on to the bones of our body. In the midst of this confusion, we breath. Doubts. Regrets. Pains. Tears. Fears. “What am I? Everything we’ve ever taken as a standard, a definition, disappeared. “How can I cope?” We manage. We wake. We do. We move. Over time, we’ll come to realize there’s nothing more to be afraid of. We have our own self, as our own best friend. We have our mind, as our yardstick. No comparisons. No envy. No unnecessary dependency. We are in charge. And although we ourselves might change, disappoint, we are comfortable with it. We accept the change. We live with it.