Suddenly, I realized that I absolutely do not want anyone to pity me—never, under any circumstances. It’s as if I suddenly understood the nature of pity and grasped its depth, realizing what it truly is. Pity is a dead end. Pity is the absence of hope, lowered hands, bitterness, and suffering. One cannot confuse pity with compassion, or rather, with empathy. In empathy, there is love and strength. In pity, there is nothing but the otherworldly spirit of time that has been lost.
Suddenly, I understood that pity is the very last thing you can give a person. No. I want my friends to tell me, even in the toughest moments, no matter how unbelievable they might seem, that I am lucky again. Because I am strong, and I will find a way out of any situation, and if I can do it—and I absolutely can—I can do anything.
That’s why I don’t want anyone to pity me. I want everyone to see that if there’s a barrier in front of me, I won’t back down; I will overcome it. Even if I need to set a world record to do so. I want everyone to know and believe that I’m not the kind of person who rests on pity. Don’t even think about it.