Sometimes loving someone is one of the most difficult things to do. I’ve loved him all of his life. I always will for the rest of mine.

Sometimes though, I can’t help but wonder why I do. I question the resilience of my love. I question the return on my invested heart. I waver in the strength of my own sense of self that keeps me sane and true. True to the kindness of my heart, true to the patience of my soul, true to the love that wants for nothing but healing and peace for a person who has lost his way. Lost in his past, lost in his anger. Lost in guilt, desperation and despair. Lost in his own personal issues that receive no self-forgiveness, yet is surrounded by nothing but forgiveness from those who know him best. I receive him into my heart, even though he no longer chooses to be there. I wrap him in my arms, even though he no longer acknowledges the support they always gave him. And most of all, at a time when I have become the scapegoat of his issues, and I have every right and reason to let him go . . . I choose to forgive him yet again, instead. I can’t help but do so, for that is the power and the strength of my heart. I can’t help but want and hope for good health, inner peace and personal and emotional stability for him.

Sometimes loving someone is one of the most difficult things to do. I’ve loved him all of his life. I always will for the rest of mine.