XXXXXi. I’m in my chrysalis.
A perfect blanket of isolation wraps me whole. The world passed me by again, and I’m okay with that.
Sometimes I’m a spectator in my own life. There are glimpses of what it could’ve been. There is an understated presence in the smallest of details. Lately, I haven’t been able to vocalize the importance of them, though. There’s a lump in the back of my throat.
Something about connection used to get to me. I used to like it when strangers shared practiced smiles with me in the grocery store. I prefer the absence of people now. I’ve changed since then in a lot of ways.
XXXXXii. Right now, I’m in my chrysalis.
I wasn’t like this before. Someone clipped my wings. My therapist said that I have PTSD. “Sometimes, good people go through bad things.” I guess butterflies sometimes lose their wings. Sometimes, it just envelopes me. Sometimes, I have better days. I can tell when I’m making progress. Everything becomes a little less blurred.
XXXXXiii. I’ve got growing pains.
Two steps forward, one step back. I’m starting my new life. I can move on. I have to cut out old ends. Repeat. I’ve started going out again. I’m opening up. It hurts. Repeat. I’ve shed my skin more times than I can count.
XXXXXiv. Something is emerging, though.
Maybe I never had ruined wings in the first place. And maybe, I’m meant to be this person right here, right now, and it was going to be okay all along. I think I’m ready to come out of my shell. My edges unfurl. Today’s the perfect day to soar. It took so much time to get to this point. I’m a bit of a late bloomer. Better late than never.