This warm blanket I've been hiding under is unraveling.
Each little mistake and each poor decision is tugging at the strings of my once strong fabric.
The chill of winter is seeping through my quilt.
I cannot hide for long.
And I cannot stop this.
My blanket is coming undone and I- I must prepare myself.
Soon- far too soon- I will be exposed to the horrors of the world.
My blanket will be torn and tattered and all but gone.
My blanket will never be the same.
And I could hide under its remains, it's true.
But it wouldn't suffice.
Not after the beautiful warmth of my beloved quilt.
Not after I grew used to its texture.
Not after I grew to love every strand of it's wonderful fabric.
It's absence will change me.
It will break me.
And like the fabric, I too will never be the same.
I will be torn and tattered, and utterly broken.
I can already feel my strings being tugged apart.
The end is near.


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