There are moments when the world is too big. Moments when it's too weighty to carry alone anymore, and the world presses down on you from all angles. One thing fell out of place, and your entire jenga tower came crashing down. So you look. You look for that person you run to with tears streaming down your face and your heart bruised. Or even without tears, you look for the person you can lean on, because even if they can't fix it, they will still kiss it and make it better. You run to go find them and then bury your face in their clothes, too small to do more than hide in their jacket. You curl up next to them on the couch, wrapping their arm around your shoulder. You snuggle up against them and sit in their lap because from there the world is normal-sized again. From the arms of safety there's peace even when the tears still fall. They're the wall you hide behind out of timidity, and the fortress you run to in pain.
And then you blink.
You blink and suddenly you're too big to come running to someone for safety. The deadlines loom over you, bad news wakes you up from a nap. One by one, the pieces in your jenga tower disappear until the tower falls and you're left alone in the rubble. So you look. You look around and wonder. Where is the person I run to with tears streaming down my face and my heart bruised? Where is the person who will kiss it and make it better, who's jacket I can hide in and who's arm will wrap around my shoulders?
And you realize you've grown up.
