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The Shape of My Heart

It goes with me everywhere. I can't go anywhere without a well-meaning inquirer asking how we're doing. How was your summer? Did you enjoy your trip to California? How's your daughter? Most of the time I just laugh and say that we're doing alright. Our summer was hot. My trip to California was equal parts wonderful and awful. My daughter is doing as well as she can be. I am reminded that people are watching.

Not too far from the surface, there's this part of me that wants to rail against the state of things. Most of the time I'm busy and I can deflect the hurt, but when I'm truly alone for a few seconds, or if the house gets quiet, or if I even step foot in the church, it descends upon me. My heart rebels against the careful securities of my mind and it opens up and all the well springs pour out. I can't help it.

Right now I'm directed at my pain tolerance levels. Kinda like when you're in the hospital and the staff comes by and asks you to put …

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