When Windows Talk Back

Just like every other day,
I'm sitting on my chair,
looking out the window-
The window that once gave me hope.
I, too, will be celebrating like those-

Those who prefer sharing more than experiencing.
I want to stand in that same queue of validation-
The validation I've been craving since childhood.

A childhood that was ordinary,
yet full of memories that still haunt me deep down.
Me, again, writing this piece while looking outside at a dried tree branch waving in the cloudy, breezy weather.

A breeze that continuously touches my feet from the air vent,
bringing a feeling of numbness-
The numbness I also feel in my mind when
expectations, hopes, and desires shatter after prolonged struggles.

Struggles that are not uncommon, yet they still remind me to place my trust in fate-
A fate I once disapproved of, once denied its existence.
Yet its force has twisted my beliefs.

Beliefs that are deteriorating with each passing day I peek outside this window.
The window, still an inanimate object-how can it hold such power to alter my understanding?
The understanding I've formed through experiences, struggles, and exposure. And still, here I am, gazing long outside this window, as a single sunray tries to unshackle itself from the trap created by the clouds-

A ray I am trying to find within myself, by clearing away the clouds in the form of depressive feelings.
Feelings I've come to recognize, yet that very recognition keeps me grounded-
And reminds me to stay hopeful, and not give up in the search for a ray of hope.