[This is a nonfiction entry!]
I like to think that I’m strong – doesn’t everyone?
I like to think that I properly use the will and muscles that I have earned during my time on earth.
Strength, however, does not negate fragility. No matter how strong the soul and body may be, there’s always something that can rip a person into shreds, and it’s different for each of us.
When I imagine all the world looking at me through a giant magnifying glass, dissecting and analyzing my being, I shrink back into myself. When I allow anxiety to take a hold of me and direct my senses into a corner of worry and quiet, I can almost feel the clay of my skin cracking in the kiln – too hot and too soon. When I think that I’m invincible, there’s some cruel reminder that rises unseen to cut my legs out from under me without notice until I’m tumbling from the pedestal that I’d imagined for myself. In these ways and so many more, I’m fragile – isn’t everyone?