So small, so young we were too, once! Young and asking questions. Naive and delicate. Tender, innocent. The whole world lies to our feet, open. Nothing to fear, nothing owed, nothing ever wanted in return. Gentle though green, unheard and unspoken.

Our arms were full with what we held and treasured, still bending to pick up more along this way, it must have been clear it was physically impossible.

It was just output for you really, a technical equation, something you could calculate, something you relied and in the end depended on aswell. If not the gain you counted on, you turned away, not seen nor felt, cut off and shuttered and barred.

I know you never claimed to be an easy one to have around. Half the world was missing for you, most of the time, a symbol to cling to, a gesture to copy, an action to adore. Not that I ever envied you for your loss. Not that I cannot relate to hardship or hollowness or regulation or the need to control and keep in hand and never let go and having to be the one to arrange. Not that I ever stopped loving you.

But look, so small, so young we were too, once. Grown next to each other. Green but bluntly, gently wonderful.

No challenge, no shame, no resentment, no grudging applies.