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I know you want a streak of perfect days, where everything works out just the way you want it all to; no pain, no sorrow. I know, because it’s what I want too.

We want to wake up refreshed, and go to sleep satisfied; forget about these days where we wake up exhausted and spend sleepless, anxious nights. 

But keeping a streak of days like those is like growing your fingernails. It’s possible, but tedious, and requires lots of patience and perseverance.

If you really work hard enough to keep them in perfect shape, clean and beautiful, you might make it. You may grow them long and pretty, and paint them red and gold, and keep yourself out of trouble for days on end.

But sooner or later, no matter how careful you are, or how much effort you put into keeping the streak flawless, there will come a time when you have to cut your nails short.

You may try to deny it, but those nails won’t grow long and beautiful forever. For if you don’t cut them yourself, life itself will cut them for you.

You know what happens then?

They flip and bleed and crack and sting and chip and break and become useless pieces of human shell hanging off the tips of your fingers, because it hurts too much to claw your way out of the dark when you need to.

But you know those little stumbles you face every day, that trip you up when you least expect it? They’re like sharp nail clippers that cut your streak short, trimming the nails carefully. 

Those trips – the bits of bad hiding among the good in every day- save you from the greater pain. Appreciate them.

Because eventually, you’ve got to cut them anyway.