Sometimes you feel like you carry your heart in a mason jar.
Sometimes it sure feels like people shoot at your mason jar with pebbles from a catapult.
Sometimes you have enough glue to mend it.
Only sometimes.
“Pull yourself together! There’s so much to be grateful for!”, someone without a heart might say.
But today it’s raining cannon balls and it feels like your mason jar is the target practice.
Talk to someone who’s willing to listen.
Someone who is thin on wise words and suggestions.
Someone who’s happy to sit with you in silence.
Someone who will synchronise their breath with yours as they look you in the eye.
Let them shield you until it passes.
You’re never alone.
Frank Malaba
Frank Malaba Prosetry 