When you lose someone, you grieve. It consumes you, the lack of their presence, the inability to pick up the phone, the distance no plane could travel. The memory that will never be enriched and day by day will fade.

What happens when you lose yourself? When you lose who you used to be and think you knew the person you grieve, but you are not sure. She feels very distant, even though you can touch her reflection in the mirror. Is this I? Looks like me but does not feel like me.

Does not feel like me, does not smile like me, does not have the curiosity, creativity, audacity, courage like me. Does not want to leave the room. Clawing at her chest, looking at her heart that was pumping blood, now only pushes sewage around, the one that leaks from the brain and ends up in the stomach. Like a bile spreading around the body, affecting ears, eyes, hands and legs. Everything has the same colour, the same sound, even tastes the same.

What if you could avoid the grief? Bring to life who you used to be and think you, know the person you brought back, but you are not sure? She feels very different, even though you can touch her reflection in the mirror. This is I. Does not look like me but feels like me.

Does not look like me, does not brighten up like me, does not have the eyes, the voice, the spring in her step like me. Still, she does want to leave the room. Smoothing the clawed ridges on her chest, looking at her wounded heart, again pumping blood, the one that comes from the people around and ends up in her chest. Like war marks spreading around the body, covering the scars on the ears, eyes, hands and legs. Everything again has the colour, sound, and even its own distinctive taste.

And the memory can be enriched and day by day, will stain, engrained in the deep tissue of the brain.