Andrew James.

You took this bitter seed which had opened up and sprouted in my heart, and cast it aside, not once losing contact with my eyes.  How could this be such a simple task?  Mortifying me of something I saw as a fundamental part of me.  Stubborn roots wrapped tightly around my insides.

It's what I dreamed of being able to achieve, each day I woke up, struggling to breathe.  And here you are.  There you came.  This solid reality.

Like a six month supply of prayers for rain, crashing in all at once.

And you're standing in the middle of the path I was eagerly treading.  You distraction, you aberration, I was making good time.

Is it a mistake to find comfort here?  To hide in this new-found shelter of mine?  With what seems to be infinite amounts of sincere, gentle, kind.

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