Oh Candice, how you opened my eyes!

Such innocence and beauty, so blond and so bright!

And most of all was your smile, so trusting

And as brilliant as the sun itself.

At six years old how was I to know what I was feeling?

And then it seemed, in a moment, you were gone.

You and your family travelled to other adventures

And I linked my feelings to your departure.

Perhaps this was when my struggle truly began.

A struggle created by the forces of the universe

And my immature intellect.

So many years spent in fear of getting close,

Afraid to experience those feelings or any feelings once again.

So many years fearing my own sensitivity.

Running whenever I felt any sense of awe and love.

Running from me, my depth, my trust.

I begin the journey forward to trust in my own feelings

Trusting all that is and the Grand Design.

A re-connecting, a re-remembering.

I feel an urgency now and perhaps that is my biggest hurdle.

I am surrounded by the Candice of me. There is no escape.

And yet I have a knowing that no escape is necessary.

I breath in deeply and enjoy the moment one moment at a time.

Morning sounds and coffee smells line my lime room. Saturday morning: domestic voices like baby brother’s feet on ceramic tiles and my blanket ruffling on top of my chin. If I tuck myself under on my own, this is my experience of me, like whispering ‘me’ into a seashell.

Your voice, shrill like shards, falls down flights of stairs like chunks of broken glass, a disassembled vase you bought from a museum, half-assembled.