I’m walking here with someone I love. I have loved for a long time.

We no longer live together and we sort of do. In my mind, I still travel back in time to our lives when we first met. All those struggles of getting to know someone, trusting someone, finding safety in them and discovering a deeper sense of self-worth.

When did it go wrong? I ask. I don’t know all the answers. I think, though, it begins with a calling out, likely near-silent or cloaked inside big feelings carelessly expressed, which isn’t heard.

The identity begins to loosen. The idea of being confined to a role begins to waver. The doubt of whether or not you could be loved if you showed your whole self, the side of your self you don’t much like.

It is no one’s fault. It is.

Observing the dissolving of what we’ve known is hard. Waking up and finding it disappeared is painful. The imagining of a new life that’s just like the old life is full of suffering.

All truths wait in all things, Walt Whitman.

How to help the one who is suffering? Listen deeply.

How to help the listener who is suffering? Listen deeply.

Walk into nature: among trees, long grasses, a frozen lake, a windy path. Let the emotion rise. Know you’re being held.

Nature does not judge.

Nature does not tell secrets.

Meet again, the ones you love and have loved. In person or in your imagination. Tell them what you want them to know. Let go. Believe it will be understood. Let go. Believe you are free.

See the world as it is again. What is in front of you right now.