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.