Cocoons

I woke up this morning thinking about my new life and how it compares with the old one. The best way I can describe it is like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon after a long dormant period. It's like I stopped breathing for more than 27 years. Suffocating. Trapped, and unable to get out. Then recently, I begin to see a ray of hope. There was a tear in the crystalis. A small tear, but a tear none-the-less. Each day since, there has been a little more life. A little more hope. A little more freedom. Freedom to be me. To be the person I was meant to be. When people talk about something being beautiful they don't usually refer to the catapillar before its metamorphosis. They refer to that beautiful, full grown, butterfly that spreads its wings and flutters away. It goes anywhere it wants. I am breathing again.