Casiopea obeyed, wrapping her arms around her mother like she’d done when she was a child, but the comfort she derived from this contact in her youth could not be replicated. She was upset, a perfect storm inside her body.

Things change. Sometimes we grow out of the spaces where comfort once fit us. We become someone who needs more than reassurance.. someone who wants action, truth, direction. Innocence slips away, and words can no longer soothe or blind the conscience. Comfort loses its magic when we begin to see the world through our own eyes, when we finally understand what we want, or the kind of life we wish to live. And then comes the question.. can we really confine ourselves within the expectations of others, knowing what it costs our own becoming?