I needed to become new. To become a witness to self. The me that was alive within and becoming increasingly impatient to be known.

He looked up to his mother in pure adoration. As if looking at the face of God. I knew that look because that is how I once saw my mother.

Who hurt me? I hurt myself. I have failed to find love because I’ve never allowed it in. Never let anyone get too close.

I’ve always told my story as a tragedy. An example of how the world is not fair. But it is fair. I got exactly what I asked for.