One visit with my doctor rips denial from my grasp replacing it with a truth I find difficult to accept. All day I yearned for a calm, supporting conversation. I could not think of how to make that happen and, true to my nature, bowed to the solemn quiet place of solitude. I could not trust a conversation to be supportive when I run from my reality...a child running from a call to come inside and take my medicine.
There are times and places when I hang in a balance that is solely mine. I become Calvin with my own personal Hobbes. I find a quiet place to spend time together. A place deep within where I can talk and my Hobbes will listen.
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