I’m okay. No really, I’m good. But then there are the moments when outside forces creep in and work you up and no matter what you try, you can’t help but want to run home. You need one beautiful moment of peace to reset and then you’ll be back on track. But is it one moment? Is it ever. You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine until your not again. And home is still gone. So you pull out the rusty tools you have left and you fashion together a makeshift shelter, and it’s ugly, and your sure it won’t do what you need and you sit there as rain drips on your face, and the mud gets thick. But you sit there. And you struggle but eventually the rain slows, and the mud dries back into hard earth that you dig your feet into to stand back and admire this barely together safety net you’ve constructed, and you’re proud. And you’re through it... because while it isn’t much, it’s yours and it provided what you needed, when you needed it. So you take the moment of clarity and you fix it where you can, and you add to it, and you improve it, and it’s still far from the bunker of safety that you’ve grown to rely on but it’s improving and growing just like you.