The loss. Your loss. Our loss. My loss.
Your pain scares me. It rattles my speech, takes shots at my composure, and turns me into a cold stranger. Your pain, a pain that I cannot fathom, cannot usurp, cannot wear, becomes a wall between us.
Fear keeps me away. Fear makes me avert my focus. Fear holds my hands, preventing them from dialing. Fear clouds my eyes, fills my heart with doubt, and makes decisions with cowardice.
But it is I who must surmount that wall. It is I who must adjust to your loss, your pain, your new reality. It is that or I lose you.
Nancy Wiley writes. 