Your foundation was laid a long time ago. You said it was always the same, just before. His voice offering up your name with a percussive beat, "James," and the sharp hammer blow of "short for nothing." that always followed.

When you left you took ownership of it: patching the walls and putting new paint on it to try and make it different. A thin veneer of you, built on the framework of someone else.

When I moved in you made room for me. You let me fill some of that space, as you did for me. I think she was the keystone, though.

You sit in the rocking chair with her, unaware that I've paused in the hall on my way to the shower.

"Grace," you croon. "Short for everything I love most." And although I don't know exactly when you tore it down, I think you're building something different now.

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kayemnic (joined about 10 years ago)
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