Yes, I am fragile. I have been forced to survive things that should have broke me, but didn't. It would be concerning if I were not worse for wear after surviving what I have. My fragility is not a result of weakness, but rather evidence of my resolve to survive that which I had no right surviving.

When the pain is intense enough, you cease to be someone in the world. You become a body against the world. The bench beneath you becomes strange. The air seems distant. Language cracks under the pressure. Even your name starts to feel like someone else’s.

When power crosses your threshold without consent, it isn't just the door that breaks — it's the illusion that you were ever meant to be safe inside

I gave them the chance to say something before the consequences became permanent. I gave them the chance to help prevent this from going further. And they took that opportunity and set it on fire.