Little Love

I know her struggle parallels mine. She tries to figure it out by listening to bad advice; to reconcile unrequited self acceptance amidst so much noise. Suggestions rain down like anvils. “You have a roof over your head. You live in a country where school shootings happen often, but you don’t have to worry about having a bomb dropped on your head.” Little love and even less belief fuel the fire in her mind. How can I keep telling her this will pass? She already knows to point out that it will come back. She consumes my details, and purges them right back out. The very same way I do. We are in this together. That fact is not fortunate or comforting for me. I’m glad that it is for her. Wishing to bring relief while spinning my wheels, does nothing for her or me. Be present, solidly present. For what? More of this shit? No thanks. I want the beauty, I want the magic, I want the wonder that I see as her to be visible to her.