What is in the mind that sees what the eye does or does not? Yesterday feels like falling of a horse, the broken rib, the soiled clothes, the taste of complete failure. But my mind is not sure anymore and no matter how much I ask for the help of the memory of others, I still fail miserably. Didn’t I see twenty? It was surely in the bag’s side pocket, wasn’t it? How can rest my head on my pillow, as usually put, if innocence might have been tarnished with what my mind saw? Deep down, I don’t want to be wrong. I caused alarm, created a fuss, why wouldn’t I? being the kind of person that does this as always, generating unbalance, the wrong kind of attention, carelessly damaging friendships and other relations. If something is to be revealed as dream during the night, how can you trust it? The scene, returned, it is definitely not the same, and it will surely be biased, what the mind saw again and again. I definitely made that phone call to my mom and she commanded, as mothers do, to either admit it and apologize or shut up, as nicely as she could this time. Maybe the new therapist is working. Whether doing it or succumbing to silence, this will haunt me like the times I caved in face of neediness, coughed without covering my mouth and many, many other times. You don’t even have to look closely and long enough to see the damage. All you have to do is disappoint once, and sulking, or silence, or withdrawals ensue. I hold all the questions while not having many answers. Did it happen or not? Am I being unfair? Can one ever cope with a life that is unsolved?