Tabula Rasa


Hello there, my friend. You look troubled. I haven’t seen you smile in a while, and even when you do, it always looks awfully forced. I’ve always remembered you as a worrywart. Constantly pessimistic, you’ve always had a bleak outlook on life – one that’s unnatural for a man of your tender age. They say eyes are windows to one’s soul, yet emptiness crowds the caverns of your ethereal pearls. Your skin too, bears the pungent scent of defeat. Just a year ago, you were a confident individual, one who rode clouds and surfed wind. Your heart was light, and ready to love. You trusted, perhaps too much, but your open heart served as an open invitation for others to enter your life. They did, but alas, they didn’t stay for long.

Worse still, it was probably your fault. You tried to build towering friendships, but you forgot that such heights are only achievable with solid foundations. Your towers thus crumbled, carrying your lofty dreams down with them. Worry not, though, for comfort can be found in an ordinary life too. Worry not, for it’s never too late to begin again. Pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, and put them back together. You might never be the same person as you once were, but it’s okay – at least you’ll be whole again. Embrace the seams where your heart had once split, treasure them, and wear them proudly. Let them be a reminder of how much you’ve survived, and how far you’ve come since. Worry not then, Cedric, I’m sure you’ll learn how to love again.