“Right now you’re breaking inside; but I,” he smiled as he opened his arms to embrace the night sky,               “am already broken.”

         It was a full moon that night, and the moonlight casted shadows on his face that did nothing more than highlighting his ever so bold features, from his forehead to his cheekbones to his lips. It was the first time I’ve ever seen him so at ease, so peaceful with everything that was happening around him.

How could someone, with such a perfect smile, ever be broken?

You would think that everything a person ever does in their lives would account to something with a greater value, a higher purpose that drives all their efforts and sweat to a single destination in which everything that was ever done finally displays its worth. You would think that everything in this world has a part to play and fate would always end up in your favour. You would think that everything would be ok.

...What if it isn't?