A nudge. Sometimes, that's all
that is required. That it's about time you recede your steps. A hint. An
incidence. A phone call. And a repetition of all that has broken you. And you
begin to grow. Inward. Start your journey back. Give up the emotional cushion
you had begun leaning on. Unintentionally though. Because you know better now.
You aren't prepared for hurt again. So you know it's the best time. To retreat.
Find comfort in things that don't treat you like an
option.
Words. They have always been there whenever you have
needed them. To heal you. To warm you. To soothe you. To cure you even. Always. Though you have been mocked, time and again for taking
refuge in words. In fiction. In life away from reality.
Words. Because they mean much
more to you than just some alphabets put together. They mean darkness inside
you spilled out on paper so that some light can enter, at least. Because they
mean solace. They mean preference. Because they are your words when you write
them. And they are written for you when you are reading them.
Words. Because they mean the
world. Because they don't treat you as an option. Because they are yours. And
you are them.
