Narrative

I had to ask my self what I was afraid of. I had to look you in the eyes and tell you my truth. Then you told me yours. It was a different narrative than mines. One I could not comprehend.

I was so blocked by my own narrative. So focused on the same narrative I had been writing for years. So when you offered a new narrative, one that you could help me write I refused.

Those nights when you were sleeping. I was in my room dreaming and pondering on that one question…What was I afraid of?

I would scream and holler for days and you listened. Never telling me I was to loud always offering a new narrative. I smiled and told you yes deep down saying no. You showed me the pen and paper we would use to write this narrative and I threw it in the trash.

I fished it out a couple of days ago, the paper for my new narrative and I started to write on it.

Just thoughts, just drafts and thoughts. So that day when I looked you in your eyes and told you the truth about my narrative you looked at me and smiled. Then you told me yours. It was completely different from mines and I could not comprehend it. I smiled at you though and you smiled back. Then we went our separate ways.