Don’t break, breathe.

“We look into the eyes of our biggest downfall and smile.” I can’t wrap my head around how I wrote this…love grows in, the time it’s been, since you last held her hand. She’ll fight for you like hell, then force herself to like some other man. No, it’s never on the day you leave that you remember Christmas Eve, and all the things you miss about her crazy family…How could you walk away from something so generously consuming? I can’t find the break and that means I can’t fix it. I can’t fix what went wrong, what is wrong. I don’t know how to give life back to something I watched die already. I watched it lie breathless for months, completely deprived of the once vigorous life she once carried. How do you grow if you’re buried in demanding pounds of heartbreak? Life is full and abundant, but it is not forgiving. It is abundant in love, sure, but it is in love that we most vulnerably shatter. Try picking up pieces of a broken glass in a dark room. Unexpectedly painful and near impossible right? Some of those pieces are never found either. They just stay missing, constantly floating further and further from every other piece. I guess that’s called rebirth, new life, the fragile new form created from what was found. Yes, it’s new; No, it’s not complete…and the tape will eventually ware thin.  

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