the strange thing is that though i feel it, i don't show it often on the outside or i get in this twisted game of acting precisely on the outside how others want me to be, even if the inside detests the charade.
life is so short. we waste so much time. each day brings so much magic yet most people brush right by it, missing countless opportunities for growth, goodness, love...it doesn't make sense.
when i close my eyes i imagine there is a way to be the thing you are and not what everyone expects. i dream that the stinging disappointment of the things i didn't do to make others happy is over shadowed by all the people i did manage to inspire, uplift, love and urge to smile. my heart hopes and longs for it to be okay one day to not move so fast, to enjoy the air, sounds, tastes and song of each life step along the way.
i wake up a little more each day, hanging tightly to those things i only see when my eyes close late in the night and walk, slowly, into the sun. it is brighter than i imagined and its glow fills my soul. i am finally home.