I understand now, what is it like to be loved by having something precious taken away. More than ever is the desire growing to fight the unfairness of things, yet it is not armour I am to pick up, but to lay down. This fist curled tight, pray for it to soften and unwind into graceful patience. There is much to learn still in this turbulence, where feelings and actions do not seem to comply, that distance is by far the most affectionate while closeness is hoped for. That in spite of apparent absence, how safe I remain.
Here, a confession to this space: how incredibly deep do I truly miss, yet this is where I choose to stay until our dark skies turn into pale grey.