Work Text:
“I think I’m broken”
This is what your child admits to you, face wet, shoulders trembling.
”I think I’m broken”
You cry to your father, mind swirling, vision blurry.
”You are whole,”
The universe says, “The world was not designed for two.”
And this must be true, because there are others.
The pain does not go away… but it does not need to.
It coexists with you— with the world.
With the joy of life, the grief of loss.
They are proof of your love.
”You did not think love was one, all-encompassing being, did you?”
The Universe stifles its laugh.
And you are content, content to exist as you are.