There you are, running. Moving. Rushing. Somewhere to be, and it is urgent. Your face bears the desperation and your movements signal how important it is. You are so vulnerable; so open.

I watch. I watch wishing I could help. Wishing you didn't have to rush anywhere; that you were alright, or calm, or happy, or . . . I watch, feeling sad that you are so vulnerable and that I can do nothing. I watch thinking that you are beautiful and deserving and that the last thing you should be is hurt, dissapointed, or betrayed. In this way, I watch wishing I could be your hero.

But, I have tried that before. I have tried and it doesn't work. I can't save. I can't even really help. No, it seems I am frozen watching, but no more. My efforts are mixed, weak and poisonous.

Why do I feel so helpless? Why am I so selfish, so deluded, so self-centred to think that I could help? To save?