Or too many words but they’re out of order and it’s more than I can do to organize them.

I’m feeling rough a few nights ago. Not sick, that’s over. A “What’s the point?” night. A “Google how to make a simple will” night. It’s been a while and as awful as it sounds, it feels right. It always does when it’s bleak and the reasons to stay are drowned out by the loudest silence.

The bleak mellows but Mom senses the silence and sends this to me:


“Never forget that you are one of a kind. Never forget that if there weren’t any need for you in all your uniqueness to be on this earth, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. And never forget, no matter how overwhelming life’s challenges and problems seem to be, that one person can make a difference in the world. In fact, it is always because of one person that all the changes that matter in the world come about. So be that one person. ”
― R. Buckminster Fuller

It’s lovely and plumps up this raisin heart of mine. And yet I’m one. I read about love, watch movie stars in love, dream of love, and fail at love alone. Then I start at the door bell ringing, unlocking bolts and chain wondering who on earth–and it’s him and before I can form words he’s inside, shutting the door and pulling me to him, kisses stealing breath carrying found words and my eyes stay open, so as he drops his carry-on bag and takes my face in his hands, he says, “I’m here. I’m here,” repeating it and into my eyes, his thumbs and lips memorizing my skin while my eyes smile: “You’re here,” and then close as I fall back, as we fall together.

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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