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I hear how I feel in the clatter and banging and slamming and rushing of all that I'm doing; the thump of my feet and the grind of my teeth and the way that I snap at the people I care for; the way they look at me as if I am crazy and evil and hurtful and nothing that's good.

I try to talk to you but nothing is working. I'm seething and fuming and filled up with anger and brimming with questions that cannot be answered and trying to find me; the me that I'm proud of; the me who is gentle and kind and forgiving; the me who is easy to know.

My problem is that I am wishing for something I cannot imagine or even see clearly. I'm waiting to know it and looking outside me to find my contentment and longing for someone to take all the problems and troubles and worries that seem to beset me and set them at nothing and let me have peace.

Then you ask me a question and somehow I answer and things start to happen and maybe I'm dreaming but somehow I feel that you really care for me and maybe just maybe you'll wait till I'm ready and

something inside me is slowly uncoiling

and

slowly but surely I seem to be finding the place in my self where I like to be living

and

softly but brightly the tears start to glisten in eyes that are hot from the dry brittle smiling

and

slowly I'm grasping that all this is stupid. My fears are all empty. My anger is pointless. Gently I thank you and rest my face on you

and

love you and love you and tell you I'm sorry

and

...we're good again.

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