Therapy.
Pouring out a stream of consciousness laced with fear and anxiety - insecurities blooming amidst the letters of confession.
Who was I to be loved by her?
Where did this overwhelming confidence others found in me come from?
Would I ever be able to find that for myself?
Are some things broken past a point of repair?
Stringing themselves together quicker than I could catalog the complexities that caused me to trip and stumble.
“Try something with me.”
Blinking in confusion; nodding in quiet agreement.
“Place your hands on top of each other. Then over your heart. Press into your chest deeply. Plant your feet apart. Firmly lean into the ground. Focus your breathing. Deeply at first. Tap your left foot. Then your right. With each breath, let go of another thought.”
I complied.
“Don’t time your breaths. Feel them. Let your feet move as they need to.”
One by one the thoughts slowed. Then they began to disappear. As each evaporated from my shoulders, I felt more relief from the unknown weight they had burdened me with. A calm stillness took over. I was left with an undeniable radiance of happiness and openness. Connected only to that moment as it happened.
“Do you feel that? That’s who you are. All of this other stuff running around you, that’s the armor you present to the world. A persona you offer instead of yourself. At your core, that’s not who you are. This is.
How does that feel?”
It feels like I’m with her.



















