What I wouldn’t do for another chance with him; a third, a fourth chance with him. Chances until we get it right chance, with him.
Waiting for that Shatter
Sometimes inspiration feels like it peaks through after that draining, suffocating, solid glass in your brain shatters.
Waiting for that glass to shatter is tedious, but when it finally does, and trust that it will, rays of light enter the dark vault inhabiting your mind. With that shatter, freshness seeps away the stifling air created by the glass box in your mind.
With that shatter, translucence takes over your mind. With that shatter, the invisible becomes visible. With that shatter, invincibility is a possibility. With that shatter, the scribbled notes on your desk become pages of flourishing poetry. With that shatter, you walk downstairs with a smile on your face, a heart ready to laugh, and a soul that’s ready to last. With that shatter, breathing becomes easy again. In, out; inhale, exhale. With that shatter, breathing is an unconscious act again. With that shatter, your world shines, your world illuminates, you illuminate, you mean it when you smile, and you mean it when you’re too tired to give useless spaces time. With that shatter, irrelevance blurs. With that shatter comes motivation, and a confidence that replenishes your doubts. With that shatter, inspiration strikes for a new tomorrow that’s anticipating light and joy you finally know and not just think that you deserve. And once you’re at a stage beyond the need for a glass in your mind to shatter, which without a doubt can come, you’ll know that inspiration was always at your fingertips. You’ll know that you’ve always been in control of when that glass shatters.