2026-02-16

It’s 4:30 a.m.; I’m walking to the tram from Kapplerstraße. It’s cold and raining. I reach the stop—still a thirty-minute wait. I’m cold, but I’m not shivering. I run through the rain to warm up, but it doesn’t help; I reach the nearest stop, soaked to the bone. I deserved this. I pray to God I don’t get sick. Anger keeps me warm. I count the seconds until the tram arrives; it pulls up, and I step inside—it’s a little warmer. I ride on; sitting is cold, standing is hard. I transfer to the third tram, write this text, and keep standing. I think about my actions—I’m unworthy of love, I shouldn’t have caused hurt—and as these thoughts take over, I start to tremble. I remember God; He loves me. I am not alone.