My emotions are like a tower of cards. It is as if it could easily topple over at any given moment from the smallest of things around me.
It has always been surprisingly easy to rebuild it though.
I have picked up these cards and rebuilt it multiple times, because no matter how much it hurt, I knew I could do more.
Despite the sloppiness of these towers of mine, I still work. I work, and I work and I work.
I work so that I could at least be able to see who had built their own tower beside mine, the one high above the clouds.
But every time. Every. Single. Time.
The tower crashes down well before I even am able to get a glimpse of their silouhette.
Once in awhile I wait to see if anyone would be kind enough to support my trembling hands as I foolishly rebuild this tower, fully aware that it will yet again fall to the ground into a jumbled mess.
And so I sit here, on the ground, waiting for my cuts to scab over and bruises to heal before trying once again.
Some day.
Just some day.
Just once is fine.
-Ivan #13