I'm trying to hear that still small voice.

You lift your voice to sing and I'm relieved, truly, because you made the effort.
You play a game and, lose or win, a day was had and life goes on.
You say your words and dream out loud and I silently hold my breath, wondering when it's safe to grasp for air.
Dreaming dreams and feeling feels means you are alive to fight another day. I can close my eyes and sleep a while.
But, uneasiness has cozied himself next to me as if he were an invited guest. I can't even trust a sunny day for his taunting reminders that we've been here before. I live in dysfunctional harmony with him like I'm addicted to the grief of enabling.
And, you are the only one who can speak to the fear inside of me that resides on the spectrum of bad to worse, dependent on how each moment unfolds.
I'm selfish for my own peace of mind but so are you. I've right and light on my side while you seem determined to give up on us all.
I wish for one moment you could see yourself the way I do. Dependably delightful. Worthy and wild-hearted. Frighteningly impetuous but irresistibly fragile. My heart breaks with longing until, at last, you have the win you desperately needed.
Even if your victory is tenuous, even if it's only the calm before the storm, even if you only temporarily wear your heart on your sleeve, I'm choosing to see joy in this moment because rejoicing with you is my humble pleasure.
No one knows better what it means to live in your moments.

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