When I was eight and got my hair cut short, I cried about it the whole way home. My mom looked me in the eyes and said, “It’ll grow back. It won’t stay short forever.” I wasn’t comforted until it did.
When you broke my heart, I cried about it until I couldn’t. I looked at myself in the mirror, puffy-eyed, with a permanent frown on my face, and I said to myself, “I will be happy again without him. The pain won’t last forever.” It’s been 7 months and the comforting lie I told myself that day doesn’t feel like a lie anymore. The happiness grew back within me.
Everything grows back, nothing is permanent, but it just takes time. It also takes time to accept that. Time is the foundation on which growth is able to be constructed.
I think my parents consider me to be a god. Because they always ask me ridiculous questions that I don’t have the answer to.