I used to think healing meant arriving at a destination, some fixed point of 'okayness' I could finally settle into. Now I see it's more like learning to surf — the waves keep coming, but I'm getting better at riding them. I spent so long trying to build a fortress, a place where nothing could hurt me. Now I realize the safety wasn't in the walls, but in learning to dance in the open, even as the storms rage around. The scars used to be proof of how broken I was, now they're just a map of the journey, each one a reminder that I made it through. It’s less about erasing the past and more about integrating it into the present, a strange kind of alchemy where pain becomes wisdom. I used to fight the unraveling, the sense of self dissolving. Now I understand the universe itself is constant expansion, constant creation from chaos. Maybe the trick isn't holding on, but learning to become the chaos, too.