It seems that life is made up of concentric cirles, radiating outward to the future. Like a cat, I’ve lived so many different lives that have brought me to the present. Each experience contributes a tile to my mosaic story cobbled together to make a beautiful mess.
Moving, transient nomadic lives redefining myself, crafting something better. Shedding painful memories, saving what is left of my self, reverting to lifetimes in the past, when I was whole. Hoping for a better tomorrow, the newness of another dawn on the horizon sets my heart at peace.
What I leave behind are regrets and grudges. Closing the door on the chapter where I was broken.