He's holding out his hand.
Steady. Strong.
I'm shivering on the shore.
Questioning.
And today I stepped out. There is more life to be lived. I am done glancing back.
"Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt-marvellous error!-
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures."
Antonio Machado
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