We do our best to balance the needs of the many against the needs of the few (or the one) — thank you Leonard Nimoy — and this means that sometimes, saying no would be more harmful than saying yes.
I have had a whole year to be forty-three, and I think it mostly went well. Forty-four is a weird number and I am looking at it with squinty suspicious eyes.
I can do my best but that never means it’s going to have been enough to keep the monster under the bed from escaping so that it can’t eat anyone.
I can still remember eight or nine-year-old me, asking my dad a question that was heavy on my young heart, hoping for an answer that would help me: why do we do things that are wrong?
I want accountability. I want change. I want rainbows that remind us to smile and recall how much we love each other, not rainbows that are held up in defiance against everyone that hates us.
Anger is exhausting. Rage burns in us and sometimes we burn too. Rest where you can.