That’s the thing about pain. You live with it, you embrace the rightness of it, until someone finally reaches through the broken glass, and grabs ahold of the real you, the you that had been lost and hurting. Broken and bleeding, they hold on for dear life, refusing to let go.
They join you in your pain.
And as you watch the blood pour down their arm, you realize, the pain is you, you are the pain, you are the master of your own destiny, you built up the shards of glass.
And now, it isn’t just effecting you.
But someone else who isn’t deserving of it.
Which makes you pause and take notice — did I ever deserve the same thing?
Rachel Van Dyken, Empire 