Today I learnt that it only takes something small and sharp to burst your happy balloon. Pop. Bang! Poof… and it is gone.
I considered the burstness, got angry at the person who caused the devastation and even shed a few tears at the shrivelled remains.
But this evening, although I am feeling deflated, all is not lost. I know I can blow up another happy balloon. I can fill it with the air and life that filled the other one. The boys, family, good friends, big dreams… chasing big dreams.
I just need to float away from sharpness.
Or maybe I just need to learn to repel sharpness.
Or maybe I just need to blow up lots of happiness balloons, so the sharpness can’t keep up with bursting all of them.
All those happy balloons will have me stratospheric and untouchable!
Feeling better already.
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