Our parents tell us there are no monsters under our bed. Our parents tell us there are no monsters in our closets, but they don't warn us that sometimes monsters come into our life dressed up as people who claim to love us more than the stars love the moon. Our parents tell us fairytales, one kiss can turn a frog into a prince, one kiss can bring someone back to life. We grow up believing in miracles. We grow up believing that people are homes. Constant. Remember that best friend you had in 2nd grade? Tying a friendship bracelet around her wrist as a symbol of your unbreakable bond. Is she still your best friend? Most likely no. Why, because life got in the way, because people aren't homes, we can't live in them, we can't build them to our design. We can't cement their hearts closed, taking away their choice of leaving us. People are rivers. Ever flowing. Ever changing. We can't hold onto them. They will disappear with everything we put in them. Slip right through our fingers. We can jump in head first and try to keep afloat, but eventually we'll be swept under their current. No matter how good a swimmer we are. Eventually our limbs will tire, our chest would burn like a torch just lit up our heart and the entire time our mind would be berating us for our failure to keep up.
But maybe it's time we realize we are rivers too. There are people trying to keep afloat, the people we love and the people who love us. People who are fighting for us. People who are not ready to let go, people who are jumping head first into our current knowing they will drown.
These people, they are our monsters, because when we are with them,
