Shattered Glass

Susana Hincapié Gómez 12ºC  

 Glass, Shattered, Window, Destruction, VandalismBroken, just broken. Broken and although I’ve never felt like this before, a familiar shiver runs down my spine. Suddenly and without previous notice, I found myself drowning in something between wine and vinegar, unable to remember what once made us happy: funny movies, rainy nights, the smell of fresh paper from new books, the sound of our favorite song or simply ourselves. Torn between sad and funny is the fact that most times we don’t value what’s in front of us, for example when we look at ourselves in the mirror or when we’re right in front of the person we love the most, and in our case both things were the same person.  

Could we have one more hug? And maybe one more dance, one more walk, one more talk, one more day… and maybe, just maybe and hopefully, if we add the “one mores” together, they’ll equal a lifetime, even though it isn’t remotely close to what we need. Because albeit in the midst of life we belong to death, I want to be like you again.  

Nothing ever lasts, does it? When did we become opposites that cannot let go and allow disaster to happen? Because once it struck, the perfect yet common glass sculpture we once were, which had been overshadowing overtime, shattered. The most painful yet exquisite way to start over. 

Because we were perfect together but even more perfect apart. And because, if I could choose to change it all, I wouldn’t, I’d do it all over again. Life is a series of relapses followed by recoveries and being broken is the ultimate side effect of being alive. Because our mistakes are yet to be discovered but there just couldn’t be a more marvelous disaster than us together.  

Because once we shattered into millions of pieces small enough to never being fixed, we knew that it didn’t matter since what we were is what people are fighting to become, because we’re magic, forever.  

Because in the end we keep trying to find something, anything, to glue together our pieces, trying to again become what we once were, without really knowing we’ve always been shattered glass: imperfectly perfect, beautiful and unique. Because our cracks are unmatched beauty marks and if you let the light in, shattered glass will glitter.


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