It's never too late to change. You know that, right???
My wings are always outstretched. And I'll always sit next to you, even in the pouring rain.
Who knows how, because there is absolutely no answer to the question why. However, why not is all that really matters in the end.
By the way, "Clarity" wasn't about you;. But my "Words" were. You deserved every single one of them, too. Bet you choked on my "Words." Could you feel my hand on the back of your head, forcing you to take my full load?
What? You don't like that imagery??? You used to....
A 45 isn't just a gun...it's me. I'm a 45. Can you imagine what it was like? After more than 40 years of sacrifice, of sadness...to see and feel and be immersed in light? Only to find out that the light wasn't light at all. It was a lie.
You...you were that lie.
You'll be 45 one day, too. I may be long dead by then. Hard to imagine breathing for another 11 years after the last two. The only question you need to answer in the interim is, on that fateful day, will I become an angel...or, a devil???
You may want to start praying. Now.
You'll never apologize--I know. June 1st will come and go. Like the last 28 months. I may be sad for the rest of mine. But, so will you. It's not what I wanted. Love isn't petty when real. I've done everything in my power to help you, even though you have done nothing to help me. Nor can you. At least, not anymore. Like my leg, this is a permanent injury. As long as I still walk, I walk with a limp. And, as long as I still love, my heart limps, too.
I'm praying. Praying for you. For your freedom. Your sanity. Your return. To Grace.
You have wings, my David. You don't remember because you didn't earn them; I gave them to you. Perhaps too soon...but then again, perhaps not.