There was a time I couldn't speak, but to you I could.
Back and forth I'd go, home and to the seven-floor building.
Stuffed and stored,
To you, I'd empty my day.
While most slept, you were awake for how alone, but alive I felt.
You understood how both could exist in the same breath.
You held my hand through the worst,
And smiled at our best.
But then we lost her.
And I clung.
"If she's okay, then I am too."
But that only carried me so far.
And losing her became losing her again.
I wondered how both could exist in the same breath.
I was full of words,
Yet none at all.
I tired of my own voice,
So I lost it.
And myself too.
To figure my life out,
I turned in.
While my nephew was recently back in Portugal I said,
"Sometimes you have to go away to find yourself, Ash."
Funny how when talking to him or students,
I'm often speaking to myself.
Yes, I had to go away.
Have I found myself?
More than before,
But still taking each day as it comes.
My Dearest Diary,
I've missed you.
How are things, love?