My mom collects Lladro dolls. Though I find them way too expensive, I can see why she loves them; they are delicate, beautiful and intricate. Unfortunately, one day while cleaning, one of the dolls fell and its head broke off. Luckily, it was a clean break and I was able to fix it with a bit of super glue. Unless you know where to look or are a very keen observer, you’d never know it was broken.
Human beings, however, are not as easy to fix. I’ve been broken and pieced myself together so many times now that I no longer know what it feels like to be whole. Or, for that matter what pieces are missing and where to start looking for them. Now, I wonder is it even worth the effort? I’ve tried so hard for so long and sometimes think it is just easier to give into the darkness. My family is the only reason I haven’t succumbed so far but when will that no longer be enough?