All my life I’ve been drawn to helping people. Fixing people. Wanting to help people fix themselves. In an effort to fix myself I must resist this urge to help people fix themselves. To help myself, I have to not try to fix anyone else. My karma is to clean up my house and to not apologize for doing so. I have to not narrate my son into a fictional future in which he asks himself about the man who must have been holding the camera, shooting all those snaps of his mom. I have to maintain hope and maintain distance. I have to not apologize. I have to let go and let gawd. I have to then shut the door and clean my own house.