Reading your last words was harder than I could have imagined, it brought me back to a time when we wanted life from what was undeniably broken. Being uncertain of outcome in a desperately undecided situation, you had us strive for greatness in a dark moment. I remember the disappointment, the heartbreak, but also the mild release, the weight lifted from our chests. I am digging deeper into my heart, trying to understand where I could have seen a change, but I’m just pulling out cobwebs and folded maps and letters of a hope abandoned before it was given a chance to flourish.

I am trying to be “better,” whatever that entails. I am trying to take a step in the right direction, but new things arise and I cannot help but feel more brokenhearted than before, and my hope lies in knowing that the pieces can be mended.

My walls have been torn down. My foundation is weak and lies in dust among uneven ground, but I will rebuild this if I must, and I will do it brick by brick.