She Said +l+ He Said

She gave me a gift—thirty years of her soul, poured out in poetry and stories. It was raw, brave, and vulnerable. But all I could see was the danger it brought: the cracks where our private lives might spill into the world, open for judgment and harm.

I wanted to protect her, to shield her from the world's cruelty. She wanted to be seen, to share her truth with a courage that took my breath away.

When I asked her to take it down, I thought I was keeping us safe. But in her eyes, I saw the fire extinguish. What I meant as love, she heard as silence.

Now, in this too-small town, I wrestle with the words she needs to hear: I see you. I love you. I want to protect you… but I won’t hide you.