I have lived in your house. Grown up to build a replica of the first. Walls dripping with the sweat of anticipation like a house in the south before air conditioning. Carpets of lies always underfoot—worn through from all the pacing, as if that would spin truth out of the wool of deceit.
Little did I know that long ago I had hired Love as the gardener outside my home. Love pulls out the saplings of bitterness before they take root. Love grows on the outside, whether I look out the window or not.
Perhaps Elder Thaddeus would encourage you to seek the Gardener.
**Written to encourage Tonia to leave the Truth on the page, so that there is no reason to turn from it.***