Sometimes, I feel small.
But that doesn’t mean I’m weak. That means I’m fragile. These are different things.
When I was ten, I bought a pair of small earrings with milky white swirls inside them from the Venetian glass blowers. I still have them today. I took care of them.
In Venice, this is what they do. They create ornate, colorful, smooth, delicate structures out of fire and air by the waterside. These things shatter easily. They are beautiful. They need lots of care and protection.
Sometimes, I’m like that.