The things I want in life, peace, love, quiet joy they're not distant. They're not some unreachable star or fantasy. They're right there, just a breath away, just a little closer than I dare to admit.
But the version of me that walks through this life, the me shaped by past disappointments, quiet heartbreaks, and too many moments of self-doubt, she never holds on long enough.
She looks at everything she's ever wanted and whispers, "What if it's not mine to keep?"
She finds reasons to let go, to loosen her grip even when her heart is begging to hold on.
And when things feel too good, too real, she starts to prepare for the moment it all slips away—because that's what life has taught her: that nothing stays, no matter how badly she wants it to.
So even when the good things come close, even when love knocks gently instead of breaking the door down, the me I've become hesitates…
And then finds a dozen reasons to walk away.