Dear Joy.

I didn't realize I was lost until I was found. Looking and feeling..simply remembering the joy I once knew. The love I had and gave, happily. The way I controlled the room when I entered it. I noticed when Joy began to pack up and move out. I fought as hard as I could for Joy. At least, I thought I did. Until I realized, I wasn't fighting for my joy but I was fighting myself. In the mirror, I no longer see my face but yet the image I've painted myself out to be. Constantly giving pieces of myself, my soul, my joy to others not deserving. Allowing situations in life the ability to alter the vision I saw every time I looked in the mirror. Today, I write to you. Joy please come home.