Leo, the sentence I keep returning to is your distinction between childhood innocence and adult peace. A child may feel safe because they have not yet seen the world’s weight. An adult can no longer unknow what life has revealed—but may eventually learn that seeing the weight does not require carrying it all forever.
That makes this much more than an essay about wanting to return home. You are not trying to recover the twelve-year-old who existed before the accident. You are trying to discover whether the man who survived it can finally stop standing guard every moment of his life.
The scar, the shaved head, and the intimidating appearance all become forms of armor. Yet the essay never mocks the armor or denies that it once served a purpose. It simply asks whether protection that helped us survive can eventually prevent us from resting.
Simon’s presence deepens that question. He does not erase the burden or complete the journey for someone else. He carries part of the weight for a while. Perhaps home begins when we trust another person enough to let them do that for us.
You have written about healing without pretending the past can be undone. That honesty is what gives the hope here credibility. Home may not be the innocence you lost, but the peace you can still build after understanding why the armor was necessary.
Keep uncovering, Leo. This feels like one of those pieces that lightens more than only the person who wrote it.
This is beautifully put. The distinction between childhood innocence and adult peace is exactly what I was trying to explore, even if I didn't fully realize it until I finished writing.
I especially love this: "seeing the weight does not require carrying it all forever." I think I'll be thinking about that sentence for a long time. Thank you for reading so deeply.
This is a beautiful piece which resonated with me deeply! Thanks for your message of love and understanding ourselves. I'm not describing what I want to say very well, but I hope you feel where I'm coming from. ✨
You have taken the thoughts and feelings from deep inside my soul and put them into words I was not able to find myself. I, too, often find myself wishing to be home when I am already inside my house of 35 years. Thank you for articulating what I could not.
Leo, I am so happy you got to this point. Clarity comes with time and thought. All you are writing is truth. It takes time to learn and understand and believe. They aren't separate. They are one. Embrace it all and see and feel how special you are. God loves you. Embrace Him also
Leo, the sentence I keep returning to is your distinction between childhood innocence and adult peace. A child may feel safe because they have not yet seen the world’s weight. An adult can no longer unknow what life has revealed—but may eventually learn that seeing the weight does not require carrying it all forever.
That makes this much more than an essay about wanting to return home. You are not trying to recover the twelve-year-old who existed before the accident. You are trying to discover whether the man who survived it can finally stop standing guard every moment of his life.
The scar, the shaved head, and the intimidating appearance all become forms of armor. Yet the essay never mocks the armor or denies that it once served a purpose. It simply asks whether protection that helped us survive can eventually prevent us from resting.
Simon’s presence deepens that question. He does not erase the burden or complete the journey for someone else. He carries part of the weight for a while. Perhaps home begins when we trust another person enough to let them do that for us.
You have written about healing without pretending the past can be undone. That honesty is what gives the hope here credibility. Home may not be the innocence you lost, but the peace you can still build after understanding why the armor was necessary.
Keep uncovering, Leo. This feels like one of those pieces that lightens more than only the person who wrote it.
This is beautifully put. The distinction between childhood innocence and adult peace is exactly what I was trying to explore, even if I didn't fully realize it until I finished writing.
I especially love this: "seeing the weight does not require carrying it all forever." I think I'll be thinking about that sentence for a long time. Thank you for reading so deeply.
This is a lovely writing Leo. Maybe the lightness you feel after writing something that feels true comes from the wisdom you gained in writing it.
Thank you Sheila. It’s amazing what I have been uncovering lately. Thank you for being here.
This is a beautiful piece which resonated with me deeply! Thanks for your message of love and understanding ourselves. I'm not describing what I want to say very well, but I hope you feel where I'm coming from. ✨
You have taken the thoughts and feelings from deep inside my soul and put them into words I was not able to find myself. I, too, often find myself wishing to be home when I am already inside my house of 35 years. Thank you for articulating what I could not.
Such a beautiful post Leo. It absolutely resonated with me… ❤️
That part about letting someone else help carry your burden got me. It’s a lesson I’m still learning. Thank you for writing it.
This is beautiful, Leo!
Leo, I am so happy you got to this point. Clarity comes with time and thought. All you are writing is truth. It takes time to learn and understand and believe. They aren't separate. They are one. Embrace it all and see and feel how special you are. God loves you. Embrace Him also
Know I pray for you Leo
Thank you Marcia I hope you have a great weekend
A few challenges but will God's blessings all will be well. Love and best wishes for you Leo 😊❤️😊
I see myself in this article. And you can go home again but you must first define where and what home is to you.