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Arbeitsmaterial: Text

Act I: Denial


I wanted to heal you, while I was breaking myself.

I wanted to love you, while I stopped loving me.

I cared too much, while you cared far too little,


You taught me, that I need to fight for love.

To fight for you, to stay, to show you my worth and that I can be enough.

But it seemed like, it was never enough.

Drowning in this feeling, inhaling it, being absorbed of all my power and thoughts and then, finally, it took away my breath,

until I couldn´t get up anymore to prove you my worth, because nothing else was left, then the awareness that you didn´t want to be convinced.


And all the effort it took, the hasty breaths, the running and the chasing after you,

to keep us alive caused my own end. 

And when I stopped fighting, you left.

And I died.


Act II: Realisation


After my broken heart has passed away, I wandered through the darkness of nothingness.

I met myself on the way, countless times, without recognizing it first.

Ugly creatures, unwanted but conspicuous, scary restless ghosts that I didn´t dare lay my eyes on,

But this time I couldn´t refuse them anymore.

I had to look right in their shapeless faces and listen to them, because their suppressed whispers had something of significance to say and I had silenced them way too long.


They made me realize, 

that I was blind of love,

Deaf of hope,

And mute of the fear to lose you. 

I had given up the respect for myself and sacrificed my own pride in the attempt to fix you. 

The suppressed whispers from the creatures I was ashamed of my whole life, I hear them now.

I hear them saying “You didn´t deserve this”.


It took some time for me to accept their message and to understand, that only the part of me died, that was desperately trying to find a place to belong, 

To fill the void inside of my chest with the affection of someone else. 

That part of me, that didn´t know that love doesn´t have to hurt.


Act III: Acceptance


I´m not blaming it, I buried it in peace.

And I cried for it. Hours, days, maybe even years? Because it was pure.

I buried a companion, with only good intentions, that always wanted to be the cure for others, what a foolish friend.

How easy it is to fool a heart, that has never learned how it feels to be valued and loved unconditionally, without earning it. 


Some burial grounds look like battle fields, but not mine.

I don´t want to fight anymore.

After a funeral, the wake begins, the darkness becomes friendlier and shadows turn up clearer.

I had met my shapeless selfs on the way and yes, they scared me with their appearance and their wisdom!

But now, we created a new self, out of the burned soil I was surrounded by.

And for the first time it is not a shapeless warrior, it´s a soft version of me, with rough edges and scars. 


It is a version of me, that will open up her eyes again to see her own strength,

That will listen again, to her own frightening soul,

And she will raise her voice again to speak up for herself.


She will heal.

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