Sometimes you find yourself in a weird sense of deja vu. You can't imagine being back behind the lines. Fighting the same battles you swore you'd laid down your rifle for. It's quite surreal. It's like seeing the images of your past but the players have changed. The audience a younger, hipper group that is wondering if this sequel is going to be worse than the original. You sit late and wonder why you're here.
The words spoken may seem different, but they hold a familiar ring. You're still not good enough, you don't do enough, you haven't found a way to please those you are closest to. The bedroom becomes less a battle zone than an ice castle. The hopes you shared are now just the careful back and forth of a tennis match with no winner. Lobbing back and forth for days - only the pitter patter of little feet brings joy and happiness to both of you.
The world turns, the days push on and you find you're still seeking peace, hope, faith?
Maybe.
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