Strength

If you ever read this, it means you're at least aware I still exist.
And I write this for the you I secretly hope is aware I still exist.
I would like to say I am sorry.
I am sorry for every expectation that worked as a brick for the altar I built hoping you would be standing there, so you would stand out from everyone else, so I could see you better.
I didn't realize you would hide behind it instead.
And when you did, I tried to reach you, I ran towards you, but, apparently, you thought I was trying to run over you.
And you ran away.
That's because when I stepped in the altar that I unfortunately built, that unfortunately was in the way, you saw me from below which made me look bigger and stronger, and more demanding than I actually was.
I just wasn't on my knees, because I never knew how to pray.
Running after you was the way I found to show you how desperately I was begging you not to go.
I am writing this in hopes you know I still exist, but not in the way I used to, not like the last image you saw when you looked back while running for your life, threatened by my chase. I hope you didn't choose to forget me.
Like the wardrobe monster is for a child, sometimes the child faces it, sometimes they prefer not to open the wardrobe.
I hope you didn't give up. I hope you opened the wardrobe and realized the monster is actually a cute pet.
 I hope I'm not a scary thought to you. I hope I don't intimidate you anymore. I hope you stopped thinking I'm strong, because I'm not. I, actually, never was. I hope you now, look back, and laugh, remember my desperate race and find it quite fumbling.
And I tell you that I hope all of this in secret, because the mask I had to wear just so you wouldn't hurt me even more for running away, is still here.
I still pretend I'm strong, because after you left, I got weaker.
And you know how weak creatures don't survive in this world.
Acknowledging I'm weak, I have to pretend I am strong.
So I wear my strongest armour as if I were a warrior.
But, as you see, this is not a war. I am not a warrior.
I am a weak human wearing a strong armour.
The strength belongs to the armour, not to me.
Human needs are never stiff, therefore, humans can't be stiff in order to satisfy their needs. So the real strength a person could own is not stiff, like an armour has to be.
The biggest strength a human could own is vulnerable.
Because vulnerability screams "I'm at risk, I could get harmed", which is what humanity is all about.
Didn't you hear before that the only thing we, humans, know for sure is that we're all gonna die?
But who of us is brave enough to face the world knowing that everything could get us killed?
Who can leave the armour behind?
Only the strong ones.
And I want to be strong.
And we were never strong.
Only a strong person would stand in an altar.
Only a strong person would let go of a strong armour.
Only a strong person allows itself to be vulnerable.
Only strong people would do what we didn't have enough strength to do.
We were never strong.
I hope one day we'll be strong.
Strength.