Window

from the inside, looking out

I live inside a tiny room which has a small window just enough to see the outside world.

I have once lived in that outside world for long enough to feel left out so I moved back into my tiny room.

I always sit beside this window to look outside and observe the cruel world.

I see some children playing with their friends and for a second I went back into my childhood to relive those moments the laughter that needed no reason, the evenings that never felt too short.

In the morning, sunlight comes through that window which gives me some hope about myself.

But will this sunlight pull me out of my misery or will I still be rotting in this room, watching the light move across the wall until it disappears again ?

Sometimes a slight wind comes through it and my lungs again feel the fresh air and try to feel the happiness which the wind carries with it.

I hold my breath for just a moment afraid that if I exhale, even that will leave.

Somewhere far from the window, people are roaming near the lake enjoying the slight breeze of the water and talking with the world while I am still stuck in my head, overthinking every little thing.

I crave that breeze. I crave that noise.

I am trying to break my imaginary chains but there is still a long way to it.

Sometimes I dream about what I will do once I get out of this tiny house with the small window through which I had always seen the outside world.

I have made my to-do list written every little detail in it, folded it neatly, kept it under my pillow like a quiet promise to myself.

The size of the window changes according to my mental peace. On the bad days, it feels like a keyhole just enough light to remind me what I am missing.

On the good days, it feels almost like a door.

Whenever rain droplets come through that window my little room soaks with calmness, enough to remove my internal fight with myself.

The rain does not ask me to be okay.

It just sits with me.

And sometimes that is more than enough.

Will I ever be able to see this window from the outside world standing there, looking in, smiling at the person I used to be ?

Or will it just be another dream, folded and kept, waiting for a day that is still learning how to arrive.