Sincerely

Cincere

Why Is death necessary for growth?

Why Is every gravestone a lesson

Every tear that's shed

Each an ounce of faith you once had

Dripping down your cheeks and onto the ground

Where your hope once was

Bandages don't make scars disappear

Yet after our cuts heal we're expected to move on

What if you shrink instead of grow?

What if your stages of grief subtract and you go backwards

You go down

And you shrivel because of your pain

Instead of growing from it

Instead of learning from it

Is that your fault?

Or the rock with carved letters of lost dreams

Which is better to blame?

Which is

"What are you writing?" Lee asks.

I look up from my journal and sigh, "Just my thoughts, I guess. I try to write them down as much as I can."

Lee nods and continues to look at the boards on my wall, "You skate a lot."

I chew on the bottom of my pen, "I used to have more. A lot of them are broken though."

I watch Lee as he looks around my room. He fidgets with his hands as he looks at the rocks and bones I have displayed on my dresser.

"You can touch them if you want." I say.

Lee picks up a quartz, "I used to know a lot about rocks. But that was a while ago, so I kind of forgot what they're called."

I close my journal and stand up, "That's rose quartz. It can be used for relationships and trust."

Lee inspect the quartz, "How do I use it?"

I smile as I watch his eyes shimmer with curiosity, "You hold it or wear it to attract what you want. I don't use them much, but I leave them by the window to charge."

"Charge?" Lee asks.

"In the sun or moonlight." I explain.

"I didn't know you were spiritual." Lee says while putting the quartz down.

"I believe in karma and a higher being and energy, all of that good stuff. It makes it easier to focus on yourself and the company that you keep around you."

"Well, am I good energy?" Lee asks.

"Do you think you are?"

Lee looks away and hesitantly pushes his glasses up his nose.

It still makes me feel bad knowing that Lee has such a hard time seeing himself as a good person. Especially when he's been making happy, more happy than I have been in a while. And I could tell him that, I could grab him by his shoulders and shake him until he believes me or hug him or even kiss him again if it would open his eyes and help him realize that he's a good person. And a good friend.

But everything is a process, and that process of Lee seeing that he's a good person isn't something that I can rush.

I playfully bump his shoulder, "Well, I think you are. You wouldn't be in my room if you weren't. This is my safe haven."