I’ve read about relationships crumbling, people succumbing to illness, others losing their shit and jumping ship. Reinvention and renaissance are themes. Hacking a snow pick into the side of a mountain and hanging on—it’s what we’re told to do. Our tragedies are our greatest gift. We are lateral, lined up, chain-linked hands, the person we became, we are becoming. If you’re battling shadows and demons arising from inside your body, you are not wrong. You are different. As we all are.

You are loved if you are free, a hostage, an escapee, if you seek love and can’t recognize it.

Original post appeared at The Good Men Project. Reprinted with permission.

Photo: Flickr/Emil_95

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