I long for the kind of meaning you have.

So many people around me, close by blood but distant by habit. Kept at an arm's length for my own safety. Any intention I exhibit gets pulled from its surface and stains the fabric of whatever underlying motive has decided to probe it this time. Its meaning and its significance manipulated into something that's convenient for their narrative. Listening ears and watchful eyes may be trying to understand, or attempting to plot. Which one, can never be known. I have to protect myself from it, always.

My eyes turn toward you.

You've survived similar circumstances. But you changed them. Through sheer willpower you fixed what was wrong around you. What couldn't be fixed, you replaced.

You created a living space through which life constantly moves. People in need are brought in and made better. There is so much love flowing from you and around you. Always something happening. You're the center of an ecosystem that's true and fulfilling.

And you did it so skillfully. The young and innocent ones from your past, now grown, you brought along with you. Like nipping a plant so only the best parts remain, you preserved life and beauty.

As for myself, I don't have that level of prowess. Now at an age where you managed to show success, I open my palms and show nothing. The small, harmless ones from my past, and the little ones born anew, I've allowed to be clumped in with all the danger I left behind.

I didn't nip the plant — I watched it wither, and walked away, not recognizing the good I could have done.

Today, I think about all this. I compare myself to you and I don't measure up. I dream about all that could have been, and wake up alone to emptiness. The danger still lurking around me, teasing me, telling me I can trust it.

I long for the connection and meaning it promises. I strain my heart every day to stay away.