what if you lost your mind

It's a spontaneous adjustment, a curve, a turn, a let's see where this leads.

He says, "This fence seemed so much taller then."

"She threw up candy corn right there."

"I remember that," he laughs.




Today I am grateful to follow a daily path of where it leads but lately I wish I was better at doing this. And doesn't it seem as if there is a call for you to leave, that wouldn't it be better if you did.



I think I need to go on the trail with him, but I don't know if I can and I should be ashamed of myself because haven't I always told him that he could do anything he put his mind to. How dare I not put my mind to this? He is going to put his mind to suffering, to small victories and potentially desperate cries for help. I must make plans to see him. I'm too chicken to be him.


Tonight's tune.


He says, "No. Just go visit on weekends."