And like that, she was free.
today, along North Williams Street
She was the same as she’d always been, yet somehow with more calm, more self-assurance, more faith that at the core, she was more real, more of her true and beautifully flawed self than she ever gave herself credit for. Tripping and stumbling and even falling, but always evolving, always seeing the light in the world, choosing purity over cynicism, wholeness over cruelty. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive such cruelty, such grave insensitivity, such callousness, such silence and self-pity. But she believed in karma, and has seen that what goes around, comes around.
And she’s trying, so very hard.
“It’s never too late to be what you might have been.” ~George Eliot