Once there was a woman and inside this woman was a box. A box where she kept all of her courage, her strength as a person, her free will, her undying love and her heart; her self reluctance keeps guard here. She stands at the opening of this box, staring up into space, wondering where it ends and realizing she’s misplaced the key that unlocks the door.
She rests at the door, hoping someone will come along and show her the way to open the box. This woman is not who you think she is. She is who she thinks everyone expects her to be. She lives for you and not for herself. She tears herself apart for you and knows no better. She listens when she isn’t supposed to and ignores when she should hear and comprehend.
She is a stranger to her own reflection.
She spends much time pining for love but cannot find the way to love me first. She doesn’t understand how important I am to her livelihood. I am on the inside looking out….looking for an answer to her questions….looking for the solutions to her problems, but I can’t help her if she won’t help me.
I am the inside. I am the safe place in space. I shelter her from what could’ve been. She looks, but she does not see me. I look for her, but I do not find her.
Just as soon as she finds comfort in me, reality is forced upon her like an unanticipated tidal wave of confusion. Her boundaries seem to get closer and closer and she allows the change.
She changes with it. She molds herself to convenience. This woman is torn. This woman is broken.
She waves her arms in the darkness, hoping to catch weight and nothing provides a buoy.
He is gone.
She is alone.
He is moved on.
She is still reaching for that box in his soul.
This woman dreams of peace in her heart and clarity of mind. The day when worlds collide and she can once again be whole again. She is patient. She is kind. She is naïve.
Someday, this woman of her own regard will discover the key that unlocks the box and will loose the chains on her inner being.
She will find herself in me.
She will find Serenity.
She will find