Monday, October 12, 2009

broken

I told someone once that he was broken, just like me. He refused to accept it, to him it probably meant defeat.  

To me it means recognizing life has not been as I want it and still smiling victoriously. It means having character, the kinds which old artifacts have, unusual and savored for posterity. It means fixing myself over and over, and in the process learning a great deal about me and connecting at a different level with someone who has undergone similar pain.

I believed we connected at that broken plane, but we didn't. Perhaps, he was right, he was not broken after all.

Me? I am and I like it.

1 comment:

a-per-ture said...

to be "broken" or not to be "broken"