Fraught

We worked in the fields together for years as kids. He was a couple of years older than me. I remember him standing in for me once when an older kid called me out to fight. Sometimes he'd get into fights with his old man too, someone he wanted very much to respect but couldn't. During these occasions, he'd talk defiantly with a quiver in his voice about going into the woods to live. "All I need is my fishing pole and my bow," he'd say. You could hear his anger, but I could feel his pain. Rejection. Not being seen or loved for who you are. 

I realize I've told myself that very same story for many years. This is how, spiritually speaking, I've come to live upon this island out in the middle of the reservoir. I've watched the seasons change from here so many times now. I've endured the mosquitoes and the cold. I've also learned that one can only eat so many bluegills.