Therapy, for me, is found in many things.
It’s in withdrawing from the world—stepping back to find stability in solitude.
It’s in the simplest “I am sorry.”
In the smallest bursts of laughter.
In the quiet mending of broken friendships.
But most of all, therapy is the feeling of cool water cascading over my head after a long, hot day.
And honestly, I don’t think it gets any better than that.
To have known you the way I did was a privilege. To have seen you as I did was a blessing I didn't even realize I had—one I cannot forget.
Tears trickle down my face every now and then because I miss you already. Sometimes, I sit and wait, hoping you'll call me.
You were beyond amazing—I cannot say it enough. Thank you for being such a light.
The testimonies told of you are the same from everyone you encountered. It’s proof that you weren’t selective in how or whom you loved. Your love knew no bounds—it cut across tribe, height, and color. You loved deeply, without limits. It’s a relief to know that when I say you were too good to be true, I am not alone.
Sleep well, Mr. Relax.
I am confident that I will see you again in the next life, at the feet of Jesus.
How did I say that I could love you when I couldn't love myself?
How did I boast that I could give my life for you when I had barely been tested by the waters?
If I couldn't give and give until I had nothing left, how did I invite you into my ship and promise to be committed to you?
I have failed you, my love. I wish I could save you, but my insides are quaking. I can barely hold myself together — how can I hold you?
Pain fuels my writing; I hate that it does.
This pain I feel fuels this piece.
I want to do right by you,
to give you everything you need.
I want to be responsible, even more than that if necessary.
But as the days go by, my options grow fewer, my discipline falters, and I wonder how long I can hold on.
I will do the irrational, but I promise — I will do it without you, my love.
"Friendship: A Precious Reminder"
A long-time friend of mine came into town today, and we had such a wonderful time reconnecting. We laughed, shared intimate stories about where we are in life, and even dreamed together about where we’d like to be.
It reminded me once again not to take for granted the people who already know you, understand you, and have been part of your journey.
There’s something truly special about being with someone you’ve missed. The laughter, the joy, the effortless syncing—it’s a bond that doesn’t require explanations. It’s the kind of connection that feels like coming home.
And as if to bless this reunion, it rained—for the first time this year. While on the bus, I stretched my hand out into the rain, as if to grab hold of the blessings pouring down. I wanted to savor it all—the moment, the memories, and the joy of being fully present.
Our day was filled with adventure. From playing virtual games and racing cars to visiting a haunted house (where my adrenaline shot up!), every moment felt alive. We ended the day perfectly—sitting out, eating, talking, walking, and letting time stretch just a little longer.
