3 years ago, when Marco & I broke up for the final time, after admitting to having kissed other people that weekend, I left him and got on the bus home. Besides me, there were only two people on the bus, the driver & a woman with a cane who looked to be in her 30s.

I was crying my eyes out, trying to keep it to myself, but the woman came over and sat in front of me, turned to face me and asked me why I was crying. I told her, the whole thing actually...the abuse, the drugs, the destruction, the love etc. Then she took my hand and asked if she could pray for me. I didn't want to be rude so I said okay...she began asking God out loud, to help me grow stronger and to heal my pain etc. I felt a little awkward because I'm not religious, but overwhelmed that a stranger cared so much.

I got off at my stop and as I was walking a long the street to my house I realised that I felt okay, 100% fine and weirdly warm in the winter air.

But I still don't believe in religion.