I have been away for a while now.

I am back.

I am trying not to fall apart.

Life happened.

Living broke me.

The existence I knew shattered before my very eyes.


I lay wounded, bleeding.

I have nursed my wounds.

I wobble, bending my knees in a bid to regain balance.

I am back on my feet again, barely standing.

I am slowly healing.

Life, as I knew it, has evaporated into nothingness.


I struggle to find normalcy.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot attain it.

It is like grasping after smoke and walking on sinking sand.

The more I try, the deeper I sink.

A friend threw me a rope of wisdom.

It is a lifeline that has helped me inch out of this quicksand of terror, suffocating pain, and despair.


He told me to hold on.

To keep moving forward.

A step, an inch, or a millimeter at a time is enough.

That is what I am doing now.

It is not perfect.

But at least I am starting to breathe again.