Sometimes we get so fixated on picking up broken pieces of ourselves, we forget we can make new ones.

You’ll find yourself one day, in a calm place. A lake lapping gently at the shore. Perhaps you are drifting in a rowing boat, fingers trailing in the water beneath a sky full of whipped cream clouds. Not a care in the world, not a care in the next.

You’ll find yourself sipping fine Malbec, stoking the fire and watching the silent snowfall outside. You’ll find yourself in good company, lost in conversational depths. You’ll find yourself in your passion, your talent. In the labyrinth of your dreams.

You’ll find yourself in a thousand ways, on a thousand days. You’ll rebuild yourself.

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art of trauma
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