I’d said it again tonight: “I’d pick my story, our story every single time.”
I know you heard my voice dip down low. And that you saw the mist roll over my eyes.
He probably noticed too.
But the stories I hear of others…they are what horror is, the deep dark corners of fear and disconnect.
It may be full of its own ugliness and I can’t say that every choice was the right one.
But I can say I’d choose our story EVERY TIME.
Thank you for being present even in my ugliness and bad decisions. Thank you for protecting me – us – from the worst of our nature.
Thank you for growth, and that which is to come.