There’s something salty on my lips. Could it be a tear that escaped my thick blindfold?

It taste good, I tell myself while licking the traces of the drop. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was...

There’s no time! With trembling fingers, I touch the rough surface of the walls, to find a soft spot. Sometimes softness means hope, even if most of the times is just another illusion.

It’s been years since I’m trapped in this labyrinth. Blindfolded and scared, I had to learn the difference between the helpful and the hurtful ones.

I learned to never truly sleep and to listen to my own heartbeats. My body lets me know about dangers and threats, I just need to trust the signs.

My intuition never failed me. It tells me to never give up. To feed from the salty waters that flows from beneath the blindfold. It assures me that, at the end of all torment, I will find my freedom. I will find Love.

My way out of the pain is through the soft spots that he tried so hard to destroy. They’re getting bigger as I’m learning to let go. To stop hating the one I used to love.

The one who made a deadly maze out of my life. And then, blindfolded, naked and wounded, he threw me right in the middle of it...