I am almost impenetrable.

I have patched my shell, heartache by heartache, and soon it will be impossible to fall.

Because falling never goes as planned.

Too fast. Too hard. Too brief.

I snap with the whiplash as I go from falling head over heels to falling off the edge. Plummeting toward the letdown, faster and faster.

Because believe me. The letdown is always there. 

Two days, two months, two years—it doesn’t matter. It will find me. 

I’ll fall until I hit the ground. 

Then I know it’s time to walk humbly back, my hands in my pockets, its laughter ringing in my ears.

“Aren’t you pitiful? The girl who thought this time might work.”

So I climb back in my shell. After every fall, I close myself in a little more.

Soon, I won’t be tempted to try again. I will stay in my shell, away from the shame. I won’t need to fall.

But sometimes I see light peeking through and I wonder. 

Is it really pointless? 

Or if I keep trying, spreading my wings no matter how many times I hit the ground, could I eventually find the sky?

Thank you to Abdul Samet YILMAZ for the beautiful photo!