Maybe I didn't know how well I've loved. I remind myself, Nature is actually natural. There is confusion about my offerings. This is what I do, I was raised catholic, see the alters in my house? This is not sacrificial I do not ask for a fruitful harvest. I can't even wish well, but I've brought dinner many times, and the food would go uneaten. Cold food at my open door. This isn't about that.
I give so I can give again.
I pour my heart, but only if I know I can pour my heart.
There is trust. Show me your receiving heart.

You haven't done a thing. Except that one time then when I couldn't find the words standing in your kitchen, you weren't listening anyway, you held me there and I felt the stress in my heart quench and dissolve, like the way it does when I find sleep. And then today, you ruined my plans for the weekend because you wanted to show me this weakness in your heart.
you said, It hurts me here.