And in my mind a picture streams. Viral. Vibrant. Violent. Vital. A broken record with broken dreams. It's not who I am, but who I wanted to be. I see my face grinning happily. Glowing. Radiant. Positively free. My hair whips around, it's still a shade of the sun. Healthy. Loving. Whole. But it's a different thread that I have spun. In my minds eye I see two things. I see what was meant to be, and I see what circumstances had rearranged. The whips that stripped me layer by layer. The broken mess I've become as I wallow and lay here. For who I was is unreachable. Though the desire to go back will never cease in it's pull. But never look back, or you'll be swallowed whole. By the choices you've made, the consequences' toll. I see that girl, the unreachable me. I shed no tears as I shred that dream. The old me is gone, her radiance buried. I'm accepting me for me, and the consequences being me carries. I may miss who I was, adjusting may be a little strange. But with who I was, who I am, and who I've yet to be, I'll take comfort and embrace each change.
