Am I still sane? I’m not entirely sure. Because everything I am is still suspect, even my sanity is suspect.
Nina wants to know if I am playing with her heart. No, I am playing with my sanity. People see a sad, quiet man.
They should see an insanely distraught man with his hair on fire and snakes eating him from the inside out.
I might not be mad yet, but I am masquerading as someone who can handle this pain.
It’s a lie. I can’t handle it. Not even close. But somewhere in this mess is the hand of God, holding the remnants of my soul together with gentle love.
It is all that keeps me sane. He has been all I ever really needed.
It’s time to start over with God.
CPH June 2018
Learning to Run 