The following is something that VB shared with me in one of his letters from 1996 ("These thoughts may enlighten your quest for meaning. They've enlightened my path," he wrote.)

“One has to abandon altogether the search for security and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to embrace the world as a lover. One has to accept pain as a condition of existence. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing. One needs a will stubborn in conflict, but apt always to total acceptance of every consequence of living and dying.” -- From “The Shoes of the Fisherman” by Morris West (Australian novelist and playwright).

Perhaps we've never met and you're just passing by. Maybe we've known each other for a great many years or a few short months. You probably like me a lot or not even a little. Or you've crept inside my soul like no one else ever has and know that I can crumble at the slightest touch. Whoever you are, I hope these words speak to you in a way that only you can understand. I lost VB many years ago but to date, his letters are among the few tangible things that offer me solace. Now, more than ever, they make sense and maybe it's because beneath all the layers of suffocation there is a part of me that wants to crawl out and soak in the sunshine once again.