Slipping away, his mind was being pulled deep into shadows.
He was terrified and tried to keep a grip on reality, however tenuous.
‘Don’t lock me away,’ he begged. ‘Help me but don’t discard me.’
Two pairs of eyes locked across the room above his head as he wept.
Two hands laid themselves on his bent and shaking shoulders.
Two hearts reached out and made a vow not to desert him in his hour of need.
It took time, patience, and understanding, but within two years he felt whole.
In order to find himself, he had to lose everything.
From the ruins of what had been his life, he picked out what he felt had been the good to build on.
One thing became two, then three, then many.
The bad would never be forgotten, but its place was not in the now.
He could hold his head up. He could reach out, and not turn away.
And having been there, could listen and understand others when they needed a friend.
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