We catch a last glimpse of the lovely, familiar face before they close the casket. We try to ignore the whispering behind our back even though every word stands out like candlelight in the darkness- "stupid", "ugly", "s***." We put on our music full blast at night because the soothing melody will drown away the screaming and yelling coming from the bedroom down the hall. We blink twice, double checking reality, because that simply cannot be our teacher sexually coercing our best friend.

In times like these, we all feel an immediate tightening around our heart. This sensation is the result of the fortification of our citadel, a tall tower made of smooth, gray stone, cool to the touch, that exists inside each of us. Surrounded by a vast terrain of arteries and tissue cells, this citadel protects the heart. It holds the security headquarters of our body; our every emotion is processed within its walls.

In the face of adversity, our citadel strengthens. The cement hardens, gluing each stone of the wall together. The shutters slam shut, the doors lock, the drawbridge is pulled in. And when pain comes knocking on the door, it finds no room for entry. Our heart is protected by our citadel. This is the structure that curbs our emotions, that allows us to stride into our school or office building each morning with a carefully composed facade. This is the structure that allows us to expertly navigate through the same crowd of people, going about our daily robotic duties, ensuring that our faces do not show we were broken the night before.

But our citadel is under constant attack. The ones who pose the greatest threat to its security are the invaders. Armed with chisels, these men and women diligently chip away at the stone wall. When a best friend lends her listening ear to us at two in the morning, a little fragment of stone falls off the tower wall. When the deafening roar of the audience clapping for us after our concert or award ceremony reaches our ears, more bits and pieces of stone collapse. When we hear the sound of his laughter, see the sparkle in the newborn baby's eyes, feel the caring hand upon our shoulder- chip, chip, chip.

And God forbid we meet that person who with the force of his one breath can bring the citadel crumbling to pieces, like he was the Big Bad Wolf and it was the house made of straw. Because it is seemingly impossible to exist without our citadel. Who are we, really, without it? Without it, we are only overwrought, tearful fanatics. Without it, we are only heavy-hearted fools. Without it, we are overly sentimental, we are prone to hysterics, we are fervid and fickle, we are irrational, impetuous, hot-blooded and responsive, easily excitable, easily disturbed.

We are human.