"Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high."
~
William Goldman, The Princess Bride
Can you spot the lonely soul that moves in the throngs? It is out there for everyone to see, yet for no one to notice. It lives with everybody around, yet does not. If you peer into its eyes you'd know. But it never lets you. It was an involuntary infliction; it is now a vicious circle. The soul was left desolate by someone it loved. Now it wards off everyone who could love it, and more so everyone who it could love back. For once bitten is twice shy and so the lonely soul keeps away even a little shard that could reach its vulnerability. Its only weapon is the façade it maintains to shield its private world. That façade of unwavering fortitude, the imperturbable sang froid, that stoic visage. It's been so long that it is now adept at concealing that tumultuous whirlpool within. From insomnia to hypersomnia, binge eating to bulimia nervosa, nothing provides it the least quantum of solace. Homeless in its own heart, it continues to seek a haven in a world that, it seems, will never be its own again.
~
