On the edge of a doorway that doesn’t exist. You can’t see the other side. Something is there. Something great. But I can’t put my finger on what it is. I just know it’s there. It has to be. Every fiber of my being wants it to be pretty and perfect. But we already know it’s not. Forever it will be in pieces. And not until we accept that can this exist at all. I’m just not ready to explain it to you yet.