I am learning to love with strength & patience. It is harder than we can imagine, and it makes sense why there are books upon books upon ancient poems and philosophical rants and songs and themes and stories about it - or attempting to understand, grasp, bottle it up in a jar and take home with. Because it is something we aren't born with being able to do. Not most of us, anyway. and it takes trial and error, and maybe trial and error again. There is a gathering of yourself that needs to be done every so often before going to or getting out of bed. A beckoning of courage - but most of all faith - in yourself; that you chose the path you were meant to. And knowing this road is long, and scorching with trials and tests, but in the end will relieve you with rain.

I am tucking away my demons, tight in box and unraveling his, inch by inch by the seams, so that he feels a little more whole. And there aren't many moments of validation - when your efforts are confirmed, or that your existence even matters. But Lord, when those severely simple moments show a glimpse - those thread-like, glistening under a very, very specific angle under the sun, moments - moments like, when you catch his gaze and his lips curl slightly into a tired smile; like he knows you know the day's been long, and it has, and there are more to come, but he also knows, he'll never be alone and there isn't another soul he'd rather withstand it with - they are all that matter. they really are.