People decided things and they happened and some of it depressed me, scared me and haunted me.
But after trials came miracles and warmth, truth, reality, clearness, comforts.
And then it hit really hard.
Confusion. But I can't doubt. I can't stray. I can't go. I can't change. I must open my book and tell. I must ask those dear ones. It's too serious now, too late? Too important.
Then aches and empty and calls and comforts. More calls and lifted high, high, higher.
And when it came down, I landed happily in my arms. Happily and truthfully in the room of certainty. I read words that sorted out thoughts.
She prayed her sincere prayer wishing to come closer to "you," and it hit me: there is a you. And my boy sang about you. And my head loved about you and lived because of you.
Hope overwhelmed and overtook me and my dark fear.