Victorious.

Today, I saw a tweet of a really good friend of mine, that said, " I always look for scars on other people's wrists, just to make sure that I'm not fighting this battle alone " & at that moment, I felt.. Sad. Nothing but sadness. I felt overwhelmed by all the mixed feelings because her story is nothing short of a tragic one.

She is the epitome of perfect. Beautiful, smart, talented ; an over-achiever. And yet, she still fights battles just as we would everyday. She lost everything in a blink of an eye and since then, constantly struggles to find her footing. Her perfect world, collapsed, in just a blink of an eye. And she blames it on herself.

If you didn't already guess from what she's tweeted, she enjoys painting pictures. Just that her brush is a blade, and her canvas is her wrist. I can't say I support her form of release. Because I honestly do not understand it. She says it relieves her. That it eases her heartache and mental pain. And at the same time, the searing pain reminds her that she is still alive and breathing.

But it hurts me that I can do nothing for her. I cannot stop her when she doesn't want to stop, I cannot get her help when she doesn't want any, I cannot tell her when she doesn't want to listen. What people don't understand is that she doesn't want anything from anyone else - no help, no advice, nothing.

She always tells me, " Lynn, be happy with what you have, what you are, who you are and who you're with, because you can never get a second chance at life. When life throws everything in your face, take it head-strong, be the fighter you were born to be and never give up on the people you love. I could only wish I was just as strong as you "

And those were the words that have kept me going on for so long. We hardly talk anymore because she decided she needed some time away from people to figure out things by herself and I love her enough to respect her wishes.

I try hard, I try hard to heed her advice, to take everything on with an iron-clad fist. I'm forever equipped with a shield and armor that would help me through everything.

But now, I've realised that sometimes a strong fighter needs to stop fighting and take a step back. That sometimes, they need to look the other way and learn to be the better person.

Sometimes, strong fighters need to put down their sword and shield. And shed a tear.

And tonight, I shed a tear. Because at the end of the day, I will have the scars to prove my victory in the battles I've fought long and hard. And I will be proud of it.

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