I don't understand how people can be given so many chances and still do nothing about it, just take those chances and toss them aside, like a crumpled up piece of paper.

Do you realize how long it takes to get one simple piece of paper? A tree will take 20 years to grow large enough to make a small stack of paper. A piece of notebook paper took twenty years to exist and become the best it could become.

In the same way, trust takes time to grow. It takes time, effort, and many hardships to grow that trust. But at last, you have a piece of paper. A perfectly new, snow white piece of paper, holding as much promise as your imagination gives it. Unfortunately, it has one small wrinkle in the top corner... So what do you do?

You crumple it up and toss it aside. And even if you try to get it back, no amount of smoothing or flattening can make it perfect again. No amount of apologizing or trying can make that trust new again.

Sadly, most people do not even attempt to fix the paper at all. It lies there on the ground, no longer clean and full of promise, but wrinkled, crumpled and forgotten. Instead of fixing what they've lost, they attempt at something new. They have stacks full of paper, plenty of friendships and trusts formed. Surely they can afford to lose a few in the process of getting a better one.

One paper is not made for the purpose you wanted to use it for. You do not accept this, and try to use it for its unintended purpose anyway. When this does not work, you throw it away, forgotten to you and no longer important. You do not miss it. Hey, you have plenty more, right?

One paper already has a line drawn on. In your attempt to erase that line, you rip the paper. It is now gone, and you cannot fix that either. You still have the others, so you move on and decide to try to tape it later.

One paper is like the first paper. It is not made for what you wish it was. You throw it away as you did the other. It means absolutely nothing to you now.

One paper is overlooked, used for the purpose of replacing and fixing a separate paper, discarded after being used for no more than your own needs because it never mattered to you anyway.

One paper, perhaps the best paper you ever had, was not enough for you. Your best was not enough. This paper was not the right color. It would not do. You would have to throw the paper away. Forget it, for it was not good enough for you, despite being the most perfect paper you could have ever had. You discard it.

Wait, how many papers did you have again? You glance down at the stack of papers, only to realize that there are none left. It is all gone. You could always pick up the ones off of the ground and try to use them again...

Oops, too late. The papers are in a massive heap on the floor, crumpled, torn and lying in a cold, wet puddle on the ground. Wrinkled and falling apart. You struggle to fix the papers.

The papers cannot be fixed. They have been ruined to the point where they are not even usable anymore. You have lost the papers because you did not realize that it was only a matter of time before you ran out of them. In your moment of perfectionism, you forgot that even the best and the brightest are unable to have everything. And in trying to do so anyway, you have lost all that you had, everything that ever actually meant something to you. You didn't know that was your last piece of paper, you weren't looking at the stack.

When you think about the papers you lost, what's the first thing you see?

Do you see the potential the papers could have had if you had used them despite their few mistakes? How each one of those papers, although not perfect, was perfect in its own way?

Do you see what you've lost? Do you look at the trust the people you've mistreated as you would pages from a notebook have, and wish that you had that trust yourself?

Or, maybe... just maybe, you look back at that paper and see everything that happened. Think back on all the time it took to grow those papers, all the things you had to endure to gain that trust. And then to the time when you threw that paper away like it was nothing. Like all that time never happened, simply because of one mistake.

Now let me ask this, was it worth it? Was twenty years worth where you are now? Did you spend that time wisely? Now that you no longer have the paper, do you realize how ridiculous it was to let it go because of a simple mistake?

There is a chance, a small seed, that the trust may return someday. You may grow a new tree, start over again, despite the fact that you have now changed the ground you grew the tree in and it will not be the same.

But let me ask this...

If it took twenty years to grow the paper the first time, how long do you think it's going to take to get it back?

Yes, each paper represents a different character. I wrote this kind of late at night, because I had a burst of inspiration and that scene in Phantom Planet just means a lot to me, I love how justice is finally served in a way that's more painful than any form of death. Truly emotional for me.

Thanks for reading!