A John Hiatt mix has me thinking, I didn’t realize how close I was to walking away, or how much of me had already walked away. Age, loneliness and failure take a toll. And I always knew the moment it had all turned south, June 10th, 1995. The advent of a great love. OK, something should have told me, the day my tongue turned sheet white and never turned back, something went wrong. That love wasn’t love at all. That love was an elaborate, creative, timeless plot to kill me. To kill myself. I am not walking away from love. I will see you where we are together in a love that breathes, that rejoices, that is kind, that has faith, that forgives, that is filled with wonder. Until then, I won’t walk alone, because now I have love. Now I remember what it was like on June 9th, 1995, when I had a will to live.