Deep breaths.

That was what your mother told you as your father was taken from your home to fight in a war he had nothing to do with.

That was what your sister said as you and your siblings took shelter from the bombs raining upon your village.

That was what you told your younger brother as he cried because he feared he too may be forced to fight, just as your father was.

That was what you told yourself right now, standing atop a stage, prepared to somehow miraculously sway the opinions of millions.

If you had asked yourself even a year ago if you ever thought you would be here, odds are all you would have gotten was a laugh.

Yet that thought does nothing to calm the ever-present storm brewing behind your rib cage. The anxiety was beginning to consume you whole and you couldn’t help but wish the platform that kept you elevated from the crowd would open up and swallow you whole.