Fear, anger. It tugs at me uncomfortably. Probably because I am not acknowledging that it is there. That it deserves space.

We push it away because we do not know the reason for it. But anything can be a trigger.

Like those two bags sitting on the couch. An expression of my unfailing love for another. And willingness to put them on par with my own needs.

It chafes. But I do not acknowledge it. No, you should be giving. You should be forgiving.

This does not make the feelings go away.

Or the fear of things to come. Of the unknown.

The fear that I have been through the emotional trenches and have not the strength to continue.

The unwillingness to speak or do. But the yearning need for those things to fill up the empty spaces within me. As they did before.

 This wrestles for my attention. It makes me feel like I am the cusp of something. A realisation. A grand discovery.

Let it be.

Let it go.

Let it come.

Hold it. Love it.

Love you.

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