I’d be heartbroken.
Being human is part of my identity. Being… mortal is definitely who I am. My interests and hobbies, my favourite foods, the smells I like, the sensations I enjoy. The simple pleasure of curling up with a good book or taking a long, long soak after an exhausting day.
Overcoming obstacles and living through pain is part of what makes us humble, and good. My body hurting for a day after rigorous exercise. My toes tingling when I feel pleasure or spine going cold with fear. My stomach aching when I laugh, or my eyes smarting when I weep. The comfort I take from a cup of hot cocoa on a cold day. I don’t want to be superhuman, I don’t want to be immortal. I want to be
me. My body as it is, is my temple. It isn’t just a shell I’m housed in. I am more than just the sum of my parts.
I'm also everything between the lines that isn't written out in my genetic code but definitely affected by the way my body works.
You can’t change me so fundamentally without upsetting the balance of who I am. This isn’t the equivalent of surgery or being sick. It’s the equivalent of losing everything you knew about yourself. The concept is horrific to me.
For that choice – to leave such a great part of me behind – to fall into someone else’s hands, it’s appalling. If it happened, I’m not sure that I could go on.
Modifié par Nassegris, 27 avril 2012 - 12:58 .