Dear diary it has been a long time. The bleak, cold, black, dark world of gambling is fading from view. There is light, there is hope, there is something. There is something better, something more, something promising. Forwards now not back, forwards.
Slowly slowly i climb out of the shell i have grown accustomed to. Though i feel fragile i feel more whole. The pieces slowly come into view and like a jigsaw puzzle i can feel i am slowly being put back together. One slow piece at a time. All it takes is time. This reality never appeared a reality when i looked at the possibility of it back where i was. It wasn’t even a possibility but a dream of a possibility. The dream ever so slowly becoming realised. Like the moth awaiting in the cocoon to become a butterfly, still growing, still cocooned from the world. Soon, very soon comes the butterfly.
