Hard

Why is it so hard giving hope? Whenever I talk to Sw, why does it feel so personal? Like I'm listening to her story, but I'm reliving the hell I went through two years back. Like I'm measuring out a good dose of comfort, but taking away my own. Like I'm trying to quell her fear, but I'm realizing my own again. Like I'm trying to get her to laugh away her insecurity, but I'm being forced to grapple with my own. I identify with the questions she asks, the mistakes she confesses to have made a bit too well for my comfort. And it makes me feel unsettled. Like I'm really back there again. And I wonder if I'm really free. If the feeling of having escaped, of having dealt with it all is just a delusion.