Safety blankets

They stink, they reek of sleep and slumber, they bunch up at the wrong places, and they have traces of chocolate milk and Cheezels on them. But, we hold on to them nonetheless. We clutch them through the night and breathe in their scent because it reminds us of the good days of our childhood. For that moment, the world is right. For that moment, we are protected. For that moment, there is no evil in the world. We relish their warmth against our cheek despite how hot the night may be. No matter how bad the day may be, no matter how unbearable the pain you are forced to endure, no matter how you feel like giving up, that stinky bunchy piece of quilt is there for you; and somehow the world doesn’t seem to be such a bad place. You might not be able to walk through walls, you might not be able to stand up and fight, but at the very least you lived through another day.

Until the day it disappears.

For some, it is the exasperated parent who thinks we should “grow up”.

For many, they just outgrow it themselves and forget about it.

For a few, they are shamed so bad that they convince themselves that this prior source of comfort is what caused their pain all this while.

You try to tell yourself that the road ahead is just the same whether it is there with you or not. You try to trick yourself into believing that life is better without it. You try to comfort yourself by saying that there are others who experience this same lost and yet they do not lose their stride. Your try to hold back the tears though you can feel the lump in your throat getting bigger and bigger. You take that deep breath knowing that the tears are just at the brim of your eyes. You try talking yourself up again. You try finding some surrogate and holding it close, hoping that you could recreate that same feel, that same scent, for just one more moment of serenity.

Then reality hits. It’s never going to be there for you anymore.

And there’s nothing you can do.