that feeling that was absent....
it broke the dam as i stared at 3 words, i had written, on a monitor screen.
i am homesick.
my mom told me the day huntman and i first held hands, so so long ago:
"becky, you've got to risk a little to love a little"
that night i had the entire world in front of me;
love seemed so carefree and easy.
i didn't understand, i couldn't understand, the beauty and depth and sacrifice and hurt love is.
i love him a lot. and i have risked a lot, as a fair consequence.
"happy is the heart that still feels pain"
thank you, ingrid, for helping me to see with minimal but existent clarity that my heart is still here and not lost in armenia.
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