A year ago, I felt small. The only thing tall about me were my shadows, in the Autumn sun.
A year ago, I had no hope. The future seemed like walking into hell. I clung to the day, even though I loathed being in my own skin, in that very moment.
A year ago, I wondered what I would be. Who I would turn into. When the day would arrive.
Today, I realized that through writing, I have become who I always was.
I am strong. I guess it was always there, but powerless was winning.
Today, I realized that I have so much. More than I ever could have prayed, hoped, and crossed my fingers for.
The simple practice of writing, and crying, and hoping anyone would hear me, has come back to me in ways I never thought possible.
I am tall. I am strong. The sun doesn't lie. It simply casts a shadow of what really is there. A dark image of who really walks within you.
Sometimes, when cloud cover is thick, and the sun doesn't appear to be casting a glow your way, it is hard to see.
But it's there. Right beside you.
Have a look.
A year ago, I had no hope. The future seemed like walking into hell. I clung to the day, even though I loathed being in my own skin, in that very moment.
A year ago, I wondered what I would be. Who I would turn into. When the day would arrive.
Today, I realized that through writing, I have become who I always was.
I am strong. I guess it was always there, but powerless was winning.
Today, I realized that I have so much. More than I ever could have prayed, hoped, and crossed my fingers for.
The simple practice of writing, and crying, and hoping anyone would hear me, has come back to me in ways I never thought possible.
I am tall. I am strong. The sun doesn't lie. It simply casts a shadow of what really is there. A dark image of who really walks within you.
Sometimes, when cloud cover is thick, and the sun doesn't appear to be casting a glow your way, it is hard to see.
But it's there. Right beside you.
Have a look.
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