Where's my view?

Download wordart here

You know that one friend you've got that's prettier and skinnier and has way more money than you but goes around talking about how fat and not pretty they are? Then because they think they're so fat and so not pretty they use some of that money they have and go in for some sort of cosmetic surgery.

Well, my view has become that person!

My view has promised to come back even prettier and friendlier, but I've always thought it was the perfect amount of pretty. I don't even understand how it thinks it can be any friendlier! My view shares sunsets and fireworks and sailboats with me.

I have to admit that this wasn't my first view. I've had others and may still have more in the future. But, it's this view that I love. This view that means the most to me. This view that I long to come home to at the end of the day. This view that I want to continue sharing sunsets and fireworks and sailboats with.

Why couldn't my view see itself the way that I see it?

The cosmetic surgery hasn't been easy on my view. The process has been long and hard and it's built walls around itself to keep me out.

I want to be there for my view while it heals, but I can't. It's falling apart and all I can do is watch from a distance while feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

I miss my view at night when the sun starts setting and the lights of Miami start turning on.

I get angry with my view in the mornings when it's bragging so loud that all of Miami Beach knows it's getting some cosmetic surgery and I can't sleep.

I feel sorry for my view when I sneak out for a look and see how it's fallen to pieces and wonder if even all the kings and horses and all the kings men can put it together again.

Mostly, I just feel lonely without my view. I loved it before and I love it still. When it's ready to share sunsets and fireworks and sailboats with me again I'll be there for it.