There’s something about the moment before the leap.
The space between inhale and exhale, when you’re holding the dice in your hand, whispering promises to the sky, hoping the universe is listening and hoping it’s kind.
I’ve been here before. Maybe you have too. That trembling edge where hope and fear hook arms and jump together. Where love could bloom or bruise. Where the right path might not be the safest, and the safest path might lead straight into the kind of loneliness that echoes.
And yet… I roll. Oh, have I ever rolled.
Not because I’m fearless. But because I’ve learned that fear is just the price of admission to the life I want.
So I take a chance. Again.
I close my eyes and blow on the dice as I release them to bounce and land. This part is always scary because I don’t believe in throwing them a second time.
I risk the chance I am about to take. I do believe with all my heart thought this time, it will be worth it.
And if it isn’t?
Well then… I’ll rise. I always do.
Because this girl doesn’t fold. She rolls.
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