Softening In Harder Light I want to believe that the attraction was more than physical and protective, but as I reflect on it more, I’m less certain of that truth. She was several years younger than me, which is usually not something I can overlook, but our conversations were harmonic and engaging and more than enough for me to get lost in.

We had an evening of dangerous connection where we became hopelessly drowned in an emotional torrent. We sat on the cold tiled floor, as vulnerable as ever we were, holding each other as if we’d fall apart if we let go.

She told me how she had been hurt before; how scared she was that it could happen again. I understood but I couldn’t comfort her. I couldn’t tell her that life was going to get better because I didn’t know that for certain. So I told her what I was ashamed of, something that very few people know about me. It was the only thing that I could do to comfort her; to become uncomfortable myself.

As the daylight glimmered into darkness, we shared a sincerity that rivaled passion. We were imperfect creatures craving hope and affection. So completely human.  ¶ 6:56 AM