Vulnerable

The vulnerability is eating at me.

I had spent years building this tree trunk around myself, until what was supposed to clothe me became a fortress. The trunk was thick and unbending. I was safe from prying eyes.

It was lonely but it seemed worthwhile.

I was free to wield my magic however I wanted. No one could criticise me. No one remembered it was me. I was safe. Comfortable.

The world outside went on without me until they had all but forgotten me. I would make Spring, I would call on Summer and Autumn, I would call on new leaves once Winter was over. Over and over and over…

There was nothing to look forward to.

When the storm this morning broke my tree, suddenly, the entire forest was looking at me with curiosity, wondering what to make of me–trees, birds, squirrels and predators alike.

Once again, I was bare…open to everyone’s scrutiny–raw and vulnerable.

I was finally free.

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This is a photo-prompt story. Thank you Mohammad Gh for the amazing picture (available on Unsplash.com).