I am on the phone and we are talking circles. We are speaking nest, cocoon, tree ring, protect the tender green, the pupae, the fragile egg. We are talking acronym, diagnosis, disorder, rock bottom, real. The conversation ambles everywhere and goes nowhere, until the end, when it solidifies into something of substance.
She says, "I love you."
I say, "I love you, too."
And then we are back to circles, nest, cocoon, tree ring, time's up.
I say, " I will call tomorrow. But, hey... I love you."
She says, "I love you, too."
And I hang up the phone knowing that come what may, everything that needed to be said has been said. I watch my shadow sinking down the wall, curl up in a ball, and cry, cry, cry. I don't show it any mercy. I walk right by with barely a glance. And I sit down with my kid and make friendship bracelets, talk about salvation, talk circles of nest, cocoon, tree ring, tender green, pupae, fragile egg, truth. We are laid bare.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
There is never anything more to say.