Ten Lifetimes

Holding onto Grace when it all falls apart

“Forty years? Sure doesn’t seem that long” the text from an old friend read.

“Seems like ten lifetimes ago” I replied. And then I thought, ten lifetimes, and seven of them bad.

I’m on the run from this place. I’m on the run from everyplace. Everyplace except that place in my head and my heart that I won’t tell you about, the place I’ll keep to myself. The place where I’m finally safe and only the people who can find it are the ones I invite. A home safe from the violence, safe from the accusations. A place I can finally stop hiding in plain sight, blending in by camouflaging the fear, acting like everything’s cool.

“Shit dude, lighten up. Look at all the cool stuff you’ve gotten to do, the places you’ve been and people you’ve known.” “No doubt” I want to type, “but…” but the reply defies the limits of texting.