No, Peter, I cannot have coffee. Thank you for wanting to know me, to minister to me,

but ….

I am an open wound that has only, just now, grown the thinnest imaginable layer of skin,

so fragile it cannot risk exposure

to air, to light, to even the kindness of others

for fear that it will split open

and the healing will have to start all over again

and there are only so many times we have the energy, the will, to begin again.

Only so many times can we brave the world, trying so hard to find beauty and joy and love

(most of all, love) amidst the pain and ruin.

It is hard work this thing called life.

It does not always seem like the best option.

And yet we choose it, it chooses us

and we go on.


One thought on “Life

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