Returning from death is not waking from a dream. It is opening your eyes after being devoured by darkness, and discovering that the light still exists, but it is no longer the same. It is like being reborn in a body that remembers having died, with a soul marked by a silence that is not found in this world.
When I was on the other side, I knew that death is not the end, but the dissolution of noise. There was no time there, no pain, no questions. Only a peace so immense it suffocated, a stillness that was everything and nothing at once. And then, without warning, the heartbeat returned. First as a distant echo, then as an insistent drum that tore me from nothingness.
The return hurts. It hurts because the colors are too bright, the sounds too loud, and people talk about things that no longer matter. I have seen the face of eternity, and now the world seems to me a tiny stage where everyone is playing the same role. Every sunset hurts like a farewell, because I know what it's like to be on the side where the sun never sets.
Returning from death is learning to inhabit a body that no longer entirely belongs to me. I walk among you, but a part of me remained there, in that place where boundaries blur and the soul finally rests. I have seen the end and returned to tell you there is nothing to fear, but also to warn you that life, true life, slips through our fingers like water.
Now I know that living is an act of courage. That every breath is a miracle we don't deserve, and that love is the only trace we leave before we disappear. I returned to remind you that death is not an enemy, but a teacher. And that, in the end, we will all return to that silence from which we once emerged.
Credits: I used the DeepL Translate translator.
