Ponder

He sat there. 

Not happy nor sad. Not pouting nor bitter– but pondering. For he was in a state of disillusion and had caught himself submerged in that disillusive state, finally recognizing that he was the biggest part of his destruction. 

He sat there still. 

No words were spoken. Feet crisscrossed, kicked up on the coffee table–still– he pondered. And he realized that even though everything happens for a reason, and he couldn’t control that, he could control himself. 

It doesn't hurt to still be genuine when things go sideways. To be kind to even the cruelest of beings when every fiber of your soul screams otherwise. To be positive in the most negative of situations and help others even when you can’t help yourself. To be honest even if it hurts others– to be true to oneself.

He pondered. Not dwelling but reflecting. 

For he craved change and growth and everything positive but all he knew was the latter.

Pondering–still

He thought,

“What if it's something good?”