Alone
If you could describe your childhood in one word, what would it be? For me, it would be the word “alone.” Something struck me when I was meeting with my therapist this morning. For the first time in her presence, the tears started falling and it all became clear. “What are the tears for?,” she inquired. “I’m not sure if I can put it into words…I just know I want other people to know that they are not alone,” I responded. For years, I’ve been struggling to write songs - the rhythms and melodies are there, but the heart is missing. A part of me has been locked away. My spirit has been paralyzed. At times, I’ve been a phantom - distant, guarded and skeptical. I’ve learned that most people can’t comprehend the context of my world. My story reads like a Stephen King novel or a CSI drama. It is indeed…unbelievable. I’ve seen so many friendships turn awkward. “What if you’re wrong?,” they’ll ask. “There‘s been a lot of pain on both sides ,” they’ll interject, gently smearing th