Life. Things happen. Unforeseen, predictable. Irreplaceable losses, indescribable gains. Unexpected turns, unsurprising truths.
Moments. Unimaginable, expected. Of involvement and witnessing. Of turmoil and calm. Of pain and healing. Of questioning and acceptance. Of battle and surrender.
Through it all, one love has been constant. Supporting, motivating, comforting.
A conditional love.
Indeed.
Because unless I “do” it, it won’t love me back.
The more I “do” it, the more it becomes mine.
The more I give of myself, the more it lets me be…me.
The more I listen to it, the more it lets me express…words and silence.
Writing.
matriwords 
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