If I show you mine will you show me yours?
Your soul.

How deep does it go?
Can I explore it — every inch, every dusty forgotten corner hidden behind furniture you haven’t moved in years. Can I gently pull away the sofa and get underneath? Can I rest here for a moment and look at old photos.

I’d want to ask you a million questions, and hear you answer each one on a warm summer day where a minute feels like a day and a second all at once. I’d like to stay here longer but it’s like the clock is prepping for a marathon.

The timing feels so off.

How could something so good be delivered at the wrong time?

“The Universe makes no mistakes” some would say.

God, why is it like this?

Why does it feel like I am almost there but yet so damn far? SO. DAMN. FAR.
Why does it feel like there is a chance that I’ll never make it?

How I yearn for those days. Those days where it feels solid.
You, me, life, the universe. It’s peaceful. It’s beautiful. It’s solid. It’s certain.

I’ll be okay, you’ll be okay — we’ll be okay.
It will be safe.

The sky clear, the weather warm. Herbs growing in the garden.
I feel safe in my body. I feel loved by you and love you in return.

I wake up slowly and gently.
I make you a beautiful, fresh, home cooked meal.

You can hear the birds.
The landscape green.
The ceilings tall.
Vitality coursing through our blood.
It’s simple.
It’s beautiful.

It’s right.

But what if I never make it?