I had started to count kindness on my fingers. If you were like me, you barely got enough of it to fill in one hand, but I took what I could; I still do. I had learnt to lick it in scraps, taking whatever I could and storing it in a jar made of hope and I took a bit more out of it than I should have every time I was told I wasn’t enough. Which was every day.
Sometimes ,things happen.Making you feel small in the face of it. It changes you somehow. Makes you do things and feel things.
Here is a small talk from me to you for those times.
In Japan, there’s an art called Kintsugi in which pottery is broken and then put back together with gold. Which is to say, where we’re headed is more important than where we are right now; the person we are becoming is more beautiful than the person we are now.
Forever is a lie.
So when I say I will be with you forever.
Am I lying?