A lucky knot in this weird universe

I am going to collect everything that is not broken yet, and put all the lucky knots of this weird universe in one place, for once.

„Are you already done with everything that‘s broken?“, Layla is mocking me.

No, I am not. How could I. Things that break lay scattered into thousands of shards and leave wounds and scars.

But this tale is not about them. They have already gotten a lot of space, and they deserve all of it. Horror deserves to be recognized, but let‘s still ignore this for a little while.

There had been a violet sparkle when in June I had met a friend for the first time in months.
„Feelings deserve to be acknowledged“, he had said. And: „At some point, you will have to communicate.“

„Yes, communication“, Layla interrupts my remembering. „Not cooking frog legs in the backyard, communication!“

But had it really been just about those words? Had I really not been able to tell these things to myself?
No, of course not. It had been about sharing this mild summer night with a friend, and a bit about sparkling wine, as we did so.
It made me not just think those words, but believe them.

The next sparkling moment had been months later, when autumn was already close.
I had just realized that my brain had been screaming error for too long, had attempted to dye my hair purple, and had declared myself dead inside and done with the world. And the good thing about this: There happened to be one of those rare moments in which I was with another friend and could tell him about all of this, and he had listened and in the end had made me a hot chocolate.

„I‘ve kept that in mind“, Layla said. „A hot chocolate when we‘re pretending to be dead inside, again.“

And there had been another moment like this, later in autumn. After weeks of being alone, I was again with friends, and was most of the time hiding in my bedroom, just sometimes hearing their voices far away.
„It was one of those magic moments“, I told my witch, and a warm feeling took over me – oh! I was blushing.
„What were you eating then?“, she asked and I laughed. This detail I had not mentioned, that was true.
„Printen“, I answered. „I love to eat them, as soon as it‘s cold enough to taste something like gingerbread.“
I took a deep breath. „In those moments, I realized that not everything is gone, and that many things will come back in the end.“ I took another, deeper breath. „And I believe that I will pick up some of the remains of my life piece by piece, and that people I am missing now will be back some day.“

There I have said it. I will pick up those shards and wounds will heal and scars are pretty.

And things will be back, because most of them already have in their own way.

And until then, I have my witch that tells me her tales about our historical horror of being alive, and we have chocolate and wine and try to keep the memory of a certain sparkle.