It turns out that when the iceberg melts, it's not a loud bang, but the warmth of fine snow falling on your palms.
I once thought that some edges and corners were natural armor, until one day I was hit by a beam of uninvited sunlight - it was not eager to penetrate, but spread slowly, letting every frozen corner quietly feel warm.
Only now do I understand that the so-called "encounter" may mean that you are willing to show a little softness in the hard world; let the light shine and learn to hide propriety in details.
