Sometimes, in our need to love and be loved we tender our hearts to those who, with such a delicate thing in their care, either willfully or ignorantly damage us profoundly.

With a needful smile how we open our arms wide for the sting of the first salvo. How doubly painful when our veins carry the very same blood…

Oh, to disengage from that destructive embrace – to shake off the illusions of duty or obligation! To stand alone and be buffeted by the heat of guilt and blame, shame and need.


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