The glass fell from the wooden table and shattered in thousand pieces over the black marbled-floor. It’s as if I was staring at the stars, but instead of gazing up I was looking down. The stars on my feet, only a meter away from my hands. I know if I reached out, I’d injure myself.
Beautiful things come at a great cost – sometimes it can hurt and sometimes it is better left untouched.
Mending a broken heart isn’t as easy as putting a bandage on a swollen wound. It takes up so much courage and recognition of that blistering soreness between your ribcages. You unconsciously push away everyone around you and realize that you wanted this people back in your life again. Pushing and pulling, ache and hurt, scar and healing. So many complicated processes to get back to your feet again, to walk.. to run.. to dance. Well, we can’t argue on that anyway – “growing up” taught us that everything would be possible, may it be in the slowest progression and longest route. Just like one begin to walk when he was first brought out into this world. Human instinct tells us to stand up and conquer the world. So in the end, giving up is not a goddamn option. Strength, motivation, self-willingness, acceptance – all these vocabularies weren’t coined for nothing right?