It is an abstract, not an absolute.

I am strong, but I am not made of concrete. I am solid, but I am not made of rock.

There are times I am stubborn, there are times I am weak. There are times when I yell and shout, but it doesn’t mean I never hide away and weep.

I am independent, but it doesn’t mean I never feel lonely.

I am intelligent, but it doesn’t mean I never need help.

I hide away my occasional tears, but it doesn’t mean they do not matter.

I can explain, but it does not mean I fully understand.

I can teach, but it does not mean that I have learned.

I have experienced, though I have not much travelled.

I can brush away the pain, but it does not mean it does not hurt.

I exude confidence, but it does not mean I am free of insecurities.

If only a human can be equated; how simple life would be. But it isn’t, and it’s just perfect the way it is. A damaged heart can love just as greatly, or even greater, as one that has known no heartache.