Coming back to myself

An alley with brightly colored open umbrellas suspended above with a blue sky behind.

Here I am, coming back to myself after a long time away. I hardly know where to start. The awkward pauses, shuffling on the porch. Remembering how to meet my own eyes. How to speak and be heard, how to listen with love.

All the while wondering. Knowing where I have been, knowing where I had to be. To lose the most important struggle of my life. To know at last, finally, stop. How do I forgive me?

Yet somehow I am always called back, invited in. I am there for me at the end. I have been there the whole time and no one knows me better.