Standard Disclaimers Apply.
Some days all he wanted to do was shatter.
He wanted to break and explode into a million little tiny pieces, glass flying everywhere, and destroy himself right on that nondescript beige office carpet. He wanted to fly apart, shred himself into tiny bits, anything just so he could hide himself away in all the little miniscule bits of pieces, so that no one could ever see him.
But he couldn't. Something was always holding him back, a wall that kept him detached and estranged from his breaking point. And when it became too much, he retreated to the dark place the smelt of his mother, of blood and tears and happy summer evenings floating along the apple scent of Rizenbul harvests.
And because he couldn't break, he waited for someone to come along and topple him.