the birth of a butterfly

The flowers died on monday; and they dragged along into the underground kingdom the girl who thought that everyone else's needs were unparalleled compared to her own. The girl who thought that kindness meant that ripping your heart off your chest is adequate, provided someone tells you they need it; the girl who would spend unnumbered sleepless nights catering to everyone, but herself.

That tender self who wanted nothing but to be regarded as special, treated every being with an unnamed warmth, without alas taking into account that every action brought to completion would result in a part of herself cracking. That was until one unfortunate, cursed day when she stumbled upon a mirror that unveiled the harsh reality, and our vulnerable soul stood face to face with a fragmentary self with whom she did not want to identify.

The dissonance between what she thought her actions meant vs. what they ended up aiding led our "protagonist" to find herself in a troubled state of frenzy, which she could no longer control to the point where a progression of crystal-like tears caressed her cheeks one after the other in an untamed waltz. "Why?" she cried. "Why did this happen to me when I brought nothing but goodness everywhere I stepped foot?"

The answer she was looking for would only later come to her. the missing piece of the puzzle was indeed the fact that her own persona was left devoid of care, bereft of kindness. From who else was she going to gain it from if not from herself only?

A cocoon hugged her until she no longer felt the outside world, until she no longer felt its tedium and troubles. It was only after she learned to offer the love given to others to her own self that a bandaid materialized in order to cover the wounds that were to heal with time, then the cocoon started to rip, and it revealed a butterfly so beautiful as no other in the universe.