The goal is your direction, not your destination. The goal is a mission that you are on, a path that you follow. Whatever comes from that path -- whatever treasure you happen to find along this journey -- well, that’s just fine. It is the commitment to walking the path that matters.
Though I always initially resist when she shows up, despair has taught me so much about silence, about the virtue of moving slowly, about doing tasks for the doing itself, not just for the completion. She has shown me the depth of my courage, but the greatest of all of despair's lessons is the ...
But the current me notes the distance between the lovers’ voices, questions buried so deep down that rarely is another allowed to touch them, if ever. Do they really know each other? What are they really thinking at this moment?
You cannot take the night from me, I tell them with my eyes, the doorways and the blinking neon. You cannot take my steps. Do you not know that I am my own escort?
He holds the scary broken pieces you’ve swept away into a corner and hands them to you, reminding you that you are indeed capable of anything and there is nothing to be afraid of. He pulls off your mask, your costume, and continues to accept you.
Excuses, reasons, rationale for motives, there are none. No matter what is said after the fact. For money, for drugs, for a skin’s color, for a preference, for getting ahead, for things, for lack of attention -- Don’t pretend one of those can justify. They are not the enemy.