Realization
It is you. It is you that somehow framed my life, but you were not some cheap frame that goes on sale in some furniture store that holds a portrait of some girl or some place but the frame that has no color or form, but something like the swaying shadows of the trees. Perhaps you were never aware of me until I reached you on your borders - I had a vague feeling that I needed you, somehow, but oh! I didn’t know, then. And you held me, even as I changed dimensions and textures. I am young, so I developed as I learned - a bird house warming in the sun, a breathless laugh, a stumbling shadow at a bonfire. I was never satisfied with who I was. But I grew. And I reached you anyway. I reached you, felt your edges and weak spots, and as I grew I found just how much I fit into your shape. You held me together, and supported me so I could display who I am to the world, without fear of falling down.
And you? Some would say that some frame like you were only that. And no one could see you. But once you disappear, ah… There I float down down down, nowhere to be found…
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