A Rift.

A Rift

A Kiss.

An Ache.

An Anger.

A Fear… Realized.

And I mourn. I question. I wonder. I curse.

I perceive. I step back. I seek to understand.

And I have a job to do.

So… I do it.

I don’t resist the pain.

I don’t try to make it go away.

I invite it in… A guest that knows their way around the home well.

…

I stand. Alone. And frustrated.

Questioning myself.

Questioning my identity. My worth. My value.

That little boy. Hurt. Abused. Abandoned. He returns.

And he cups my face in his hands and simply says…

“Look how far we’ve come.”

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