I straighten and glare at him, but that part of me that had come out of torpor recently whispered something in my ear. I want to swat it away like a pesky insect, but the voice speaks from deep within.
He’s right. You are a coward.

I recoil. I can feel him and his soft eyes looking at me. Hiawatha Black Bear wants to gouge his eyes out. The part of me I left behind wants to let my own eyes blur as they are. I haven’t cried in more than a year.

I stare out onto the water as the wind ripples across its surface – distorting the reflection.
“You know…it’s ironic.”
He turns his head, but says nothing.
“I’ve spent so much time with myself…but I realize now that I’ve done a lot more losing than finding. I was wrong.”
I hang my head in shame.

His arm rests on my bony shoulder, and I actually allow the young man to hold me. For the first time in more than a year, I’ve let someone inside.

I’m a child again. A vulnerable, broken, hurt, scared child, in need of being loved.