Me, watching the rain clouds rush in. They thunder through the valley and are washing away the dust of the last months. I am wearing shorts and a brown T-shirt. My hair curling wildly. My wrists showing scars from many cries for help.

Me, sitting at a cute corner café. Feeling rested for the first time in weeks. My hair is wet from the cold shower I took. Sipping my tea I am thinking that maybe it is possible to love unconditionally. Or maybe it only is an illusion. I enjoy the stories they are telling about it. It gives me hope.

Me, sitting at the kitchen table in my underwear and a tank-top. The Mickey Mouse cup my grandmother used to love is filled with coffee. Eating cereal. Browsing the web with dreams still in my head. When will I ever feel ready to leave? When will I ever feel ready to not come back?

Me, standing on the balcony letting the evening wind brush over my face. My hair is getting etangled in itself. My clothes are pulling me back towards the house. I enjoy the brisk breeze and see the clouds rolling over the lake. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow I will do it.

Me, sitting at the beach under a leafy tree with my toes sticking in the sand. My glasses reflect the bright blue sky and tumbling waves. I hate my body ever since he touched me that day in 2nd grade.

Me, standing on the top of the tallest building in the city, leaning on the concrete railing. The sky is overcast but I can feel the warmth of the sun. I am looking eastwards where the hills are rising behind rows and rows of skyscrapers. I realize now that I was afraid too long. I was afraid for way too long.

Me, sitting on the plane next to my lover. She smiles at me. Her freckles are like jumping sparks of joy. I see love in her eyes. She holds my hand and squeezes it like it was the last time we ever met.

Me, lightly swinging in a hammock on the top floor of a hostel in Rio; overlooking the bay. Listening to The Beatles, letting the full moon bathe my face and light up the undercurrents of my mind. I have never felt like this before. Even in this seemingly simple part of life I am utterly confused.

Me, on my skis doing the first runs of the year. I am wearing my blue helmet, red jacket, dark pants; and my friends are in the background making funny faces. Last night’s storm brought powder. Glittering in the morning sun. My wife and I cried all night because we don’t know how to make it work anymore.

Me, with red cheeks from the cold wind outside. The sun is illuminating everything with a bright smile. My orange woollen scarf, the orange pants and tightly snug black jacket. If I would have died today I would have lived a life worth living.