I’ve done it. I wanted to finish on the 10th anniversary of True’s birth but… well, at this point, I’m happy I managed to get it out at all.
My English is broken and my editing skills are bad. The memory and the intensity of the traumatic experience are fading. I feel less and less reliable as a narrator of my own story, I feel more and more tired of writing what could be labelled as #traumacore.
And yet, True is very much alive and present in my life. She’s helped me integrate the experience. Like all my other alteregos, she’ll forever be part of my life, my friend. She’s helped me migrate, make friends, create a new life, survive the pandemic.
I wish I was able to do her more justice and share her energy, make her able to help others. After all, she is a detective and wants to fight crime and lies. Unfortunately, language is not True’s element and text is not her medium. She’s physical and visual and I tried my best to let her live in that way, through me.
True is a mystery to me. I don’t know what’s next for us or if it’s time for another alterego to take over. However, I know for a fact, that she’ll always be there for me, always ready to help me get by in this bloody place