Tuesday, May 27, 2008

It was a risk.

A risk - an act of desperation.

A risk to open himself to see that there is a chance to love and receive again. To take a chance that perhaps this time it would save him and blot away all the past hurts that have ached so bad.

It was a great risk.

Think about facing your phobia unarmed, unprepared.

The risk was greater than what you could ever anticipate.

He died.

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