It was like I was in a box, tightly capped. It was a darkness I grew to be comfortable with, a space I was contented with. Nobody could come in, and I wasn't intending to go out either.

Alas.

You opened the lid, and beckoned me to come out. I didn't want to, but you waited, you hung around, and waited for me to stretch out  my hand. You allowed me to grow used to being out in the open like that. It was okay, it was okay to be exposed to the sun, to the fresh air. It almost felt like I belonged.

Now, as I sit inside the box again, with the lid opened this time - I think about you, and how you pulled me out.

It was a dark place there, wherever I was at.

You brought me out, just by being there.