I used to be good at comforting people. And then the world changed me. I offered myself to people I loved and to people I hardly knew and I allowed them to pull me down into their darkness. In the end, they stood tall on my shoulders and managed to escape. The only thing is that they left me behind. Over the years, I was torn to pieces by the beasts that live in the darkness. Depression, heartache, betrayal, you name it. I met them all. When they finished with me, my heart had been ripped from my flesh and nothing remained but cold, dry bones and memories of times gone by. Eventually, I managed to lift myself out into the light, but even so, I remain no sturdier than the threadbare scarf he gave to me 7 winters ago. So now? Now when people come to me with sadness in their eyes that beg for a helping hand, my heart breaks with empathy and longs to help heal a fellow human soul, but I respond with nothing more than a casual nod of agreement because I know I can’t afford to go back.