They were both born believing everyone was perfect, except for them.
Even as young children, they both knew of their brokenness and were ashamed of
it. The scars of the heart equaled the scars across their flesh. Disappointments,
trials and darkness all differentiated them from the others.
She thought she was slowly going mad; he
thought he was simply born to mess things up. They were alone for many years,
trudging laboriously through the whirlpool of life.
Somehow, the two broken dreamers collided and
recognized themselves in the other. Friendship, a bonding, occurred more
quickly than normal. A desperate clinging, a forming without a strong base.
Because of their natures, they broke apart and
scattered. She fell into a dark valley, while he ran away to an empty forest.
Alone again, as they thought they were truly meant to be.
Yet somehow, the valley soon ran into the
forest and they met once more. Desperately again, with only a little more
caution than the last time, they soon fell apart yet again.
The broken dreamers learned from the pain and
from each other, coming together and breaking apart again and again. She saw
that the rest of the world was broken too, and he realized that it was alright
to be broken.
Their healing was awful, painful beyond
imagining, yet their bond still remained, no matter how fragile at times.
Somehow, despite the brokenness, they had become tied together into something
new and whole.
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