Sometimes, when I become so weary of carrying this burden alone, and the reprieve I am anticipating feels so far away... Sometimes, when I have walked the same steps and said the same words so many times, that even my anger has become stale...and I can no longer find the magic, even in you, His most glorious creations...
Sometimes, but not often, Thank God not often, when the chaos inside me becomes a maelstrom, the tears come, and the shouting. I hear the ugliness and the criticisms in the words I couldn't keep inside and I know I have gone too far. I know that I have left a mark on your spirit that will not completely heal. I have left a scar. And because of me, someday, you may feel less. Less whole, less sure, less capable.
Forgive me for my anger. Forgive me my arrogance in thinking myself capable. How could I have thought that I could be worthy of you? Worthy to guide you through the storms?
I, who keep losing my way.