Change: Such a hard thing

I played around with the idea of writing something more ‘normal’ something more apt for the general public to read, but unfortunately I’m not used to normal. I know this isn’t the most traditional way to go and most people reading this would be quick to judge, but I have learnt the hard way that people will judge no matter how good a person you are.

This is a very small post, but it’s something close to my heart, change is a hard thing I guess this sums it up. Of course this is only the first part, just keep an open mind while reading this. 

She cried again, blaming herself for most of what went wrong. She blamed herself because suddenly she was losing her grip on everything she worked so hard for. Her carefully knit life was falling apart, and the thread she used was disintegrating, it was withering away. With every new stitch she felt the pain of the needle now completely rusted. She kept stitching even though it hurt. The problem was, she didn’t know any other way. She didn’t know how to stitch herself back a different way, she couldn’t see the brand new needle kept there nor could she see the stronger thread. All she could see was the old; her eyes were accustomed to the old. She thought, maybe if she tried something new she would lose everything she worked so hard to get. She was scared of the loss; she was scared of the change. If only she noticed the new needle there maybe then the stitches wouldn’t hurt as much. But she can’t see it; rather she doesn’t want to see it. She’s scared of change, and a new needle means change.