Every thought brought to voice is a calculated tip toe through broken glass and barbed wire. The knot in his stomach cinches tighter on the heart he struggles to console. The trouble he finds himself in now, is a new kind of hell. A hell full of fire, fueled by past trauma and disappointment. Where there should be light and happiness, is instead, a downward spiral of doubt and second thoughts.

On any other day, with any other person, life would flow like a stream. Passing through gently and effortlessly. Through obstacles and hairpin turns, never slowing to contemplate what may lie ahead. But now, on this day, with this person, he slows. He contemplates and considers the words and actions he should pursue. Every action bears a consequence and every consequence tightens the knot in his stomach. The knot is tied with fear and held together by his anxiety and hopelessness.

Knots, like life, have a beginning and an end. Like life, knots contain unexpected and somewhat indiscernible twists and turns. Like life, knots take deliberate and careful examination. Examination in order to determine—exactly—how to best right the steps taken to create them. His knot was no different and was created by the twists, the turns, in the life he had come to know. This person of his, has created a need and a desire to deliberately and carefully examine the knot in his stomach. The desire to analyze the tangled mess in his gut, was not for his benefit, but for hers. He had no desire to untie it, to rid himself of the pain and anxiety. No. It kept him safe. The knot was a shield forged in painful memories and a broken heart. The problem with a shield though, is they work both ways.

In defense of his own heart he’d managed to cordon himself away from hers. Fear is a powerful motivator, yet, what he had tried so fervently to prevent, would instead be caused by his efforts to prevent it. He knew this. He knew the knot needed to be undone and faith needed to take its place. To keep her heart, he needed to expose his own. To untie his knot he needed to pour out his emotion. He needed her to understand and to relate. He needed to know she had a knot too. He had to know he wasn’t alone in this feeling. He brought it to her and she listened. She listened, but all she heard was his past… His knot was gone, but now, every thought brought to voice is a calculated tip toe through broken glass and barbed wire. Now his heart sinks lower into the space created by the missing knot.