CHANCE

CHANCE

They say you can do anything
until one day you discover
you can’t.

You can chase a dream
until it looks close enough to touch,
then reach for it
and find your hands full of air.

There was a time
when tomorrow felt promised.
When there was always another chance,
another morning,
another door,
another reason to believe
things could get better.

But nobody tells you
how quickly a life can change.

A virus can take someone
you thought would always be here.
Cancer can turn a familiar voice
into a memory.
A car accident can erase
a whole future in a matter of seconds.
A robbery can take more than possessions.
And sometimes someone you love
becomes so tired of hurting
that they decide they cannot stay.

One chance.
One moment.
One phone call
you never got to make.

And suddenly
the family that seemed so close
is scattered across photographs,
cemeteries,
old voicemails,
and memories that hurt
because they are all you have left.

So why do we make it harder?

Why, when someone is already drowning,
do we stand on the shore
and criticize the way they swim?

Why do we judge the person
whose hands are shaking
instead of reaching out
and holding them?

Why do we tell the broken
to simply be stronger
when they have spent their entire lives
being strong for everyone else?

I know something about that.

I have asked for help.

I have tried to say,
“I don't think I can do this anymore,”
and somehow those words
became an invitation for criticism.

I have reached for family
and found lectures instead of arms,
questions instead of comfort,
judgment instead of
“I'm glad you're still here.”

And now I'm standing somewhere
I never thought I would stand,
wondering why I should keep fighting
feelings that keep telling me
there is no reason to.

Tell me—

what is the reason?

Give me a chance
to believe there is one.

Because I am tired.

Not the kind of tired
that sleep can fix.

I am tired in places
I don't know how to name.

And I am scared.

But aren't we all?

Aren't we all carrying something
we don't talk about?

Aren't we all bruised
by things nobody else can see?

We are all traumatized
by something.

We are all afraid
of losing someone.

We are all one phone call
away from a life we don't recognize.

So maybe we should be kinder.

Maybe the person who seems angry
is hurting.

Maybe the person who disappeared
is struggling.

Maybe the person who keeps saying
“I’m fine”
is quietly begging someone
to ask again.

Maybe instead of tearing people down
when they are already on their knees,
we could give them a reason
to stand.

Give them a hand.

Give them a voice.

Give them a chance.

Because life is already lonely enough.

And if there is even one chance
that kindness can keep someone here,
why wouldn't we take it?

If there is one chance
that tomorrow might hurt less,
why wouldn't we wait for it?

If there is one chance
that the dream might still be reachable,
why wouldn't we reach again?

I don't know if I believe it yet.

But I'm asking you to help me.

Not criticize me.

Not tell me what I should have done.

Just stay.

Sit beside me
while I am afraid.

Remind me that I am more
than this moment.

Remind me that losing my way
doesn't mean I have to lose myself.

Tell me there is still a chance.

Then tell me again.

And again.

And again.

Until someday
I believe you.