A knock

The aching flawed can’t live with or without themselves. They aim to hurt. They cannot bear your smile. They don’t know how to love, especially those who were born to love. They cannot give what they’ve never known. They don’t know any better.

When asked why I won’t take a chance on him, I wonder whether he’ll give or take from me. I never asked myself this before. I used to let almost anyone willing in this world of mine. I would open the door to almost anyone who knocked. I’d even be flattered by the attention.

Unaware of the ability to filter more efficiently, I found myself surrounded by some who can’t give me what I need. And even if nobody knocks for a while, I can be a much more reliable source than the aching ones. I enjoy not being bothered by the knocking of those who have nothing to offer.

Perfection has never been expected but support always has.

The door is open and many are leaving. My joy has proven to be too much for some to handle.

Be blue and many will want to join the pity club and play cards with the victims. Be merry and many will drop out, one by one. I was born to be happy; I have finally realized this. And now I can see it’s a bit much for some surrounding souls. And if that’s the case, I haven’t much to give them anyway. Let life transpire and the ones unwilling to give will leave. And then there’s space in your place for those who not only knock for the right reasons but also know when to stay and when to leave.

And that’s a knock that is worth the wait.


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