Speaking of the truth. Sometimes it can be really hard to hear. Now that I think about it, the truth was always there. In actions that were inaudible. In her dismissal and constant returns to voicemail. In her resignation about it all, and in her feigned busyness. Time and time again. We shifted and I missed it because I was waiting for her words.
And even though I felt it, I excused it because she was unable to validate what I already knew. What I already felt. What was truth. And so we moved. Things changed and I … I missed the moment. All along her beautiful broken self was standing right before me and I, armed and ready to battle her with my words missed her truth because she … was unable to raise her voice.