āIām not as strong as I once thought, and Iām no longer as smart as I once was. Instead, all thatās left of me, is this kind of soft ordinariness that terrifies me to my core. I crave wanting and adventures so badly I can no longer see the difference between pain and living. Knowing that Iām no longer something of significance has shattered me to the point that the gold outlining my fragments is useless and shiny and worth nothing. I built my foundations on my presumed notions of strength and preconceived notions of my strength from others who only whispered soft things to me because to break someone itās better if they think they have a thicker coating than porcelain. I scorned tears so terribly that rivers and oceans and bodies of water were not the endless, thrashing, godlike beings they are but wily, trembling, bashful sounds of a mortal too weak to be anything but mortal. And now Iām left here with just the sky and the stars and everything I thought about being a girl and about being strong was just a lie. With a mind so weak and a body so frail, all I have left within me is a handful of words that only sound right about half of the time and another handful of memories and nostalgia that have damaged me from within. I desired strength because I thought it could heal me, absolve me of my sins, shape me to be the very hero needed for such a great tragedy that is life. But Iām just a whimpering girl sitting in the back of a truck in the middle of winter with nothing but aching bones. But that day, when the full force of humanity and mortality and weakness hit me like no other, was the first time I had ever seen so many stars shine so bright in the sky.ā
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theartofmadeline
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