How can the body, mind, or spirit soar without the other? It was supposed to be a happy occasion, news of my promotion, but I could not look him -the messenger- in the eyes. He smiled, but I knew that he was only studying me. I knew that if he stared too long into my eyes, he would see my unhappiness. I looked away, and I wondered if he noticed. I hoped that he would not look at me again, but he did. He kept trying to make eye contact, and I kept trying to pretend that I fit in. He kept congratulating me, but success means nothing to a fractured heart and spirit. I am the tin soldier that marches ever forward. Simple are my steps, and empty is my chest, except for this throbbing pain. I am nothing but accomplished goals strung together with no life in between.